His Bet
by yingxy
Summary: Sakura knows that happily ever after is a fairy tale and Syaoran knows commitment is impossible, but add unavoidable lust, a lot of irritation and a dash of fate and what do you get? True love!
1. The Bet

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

His Bet

Sakura Kinomoto watched Mortimer walk away. "Just because I won't sleep with you, you pig.", she whispered under her breath. Great. Now who was she going to take to Tomoyo's wedding? Her best friend in the whole wide world since first grade was getting married, and had specifically told Sakura to bring a date. Mortimer had already been a prime candidate, having been Sakura's steady boyfriend for a very long two months, but she couldn't help but feel thankful they had broken up. 'The pig,', she thought again.

The guy was an asshole, but how could he leave her dateless just 3 weeks before the wedding?

Now she had no one to take. Sakura thought about all the nagging she would be in for if she dared to turn up without someone, and immediately began to cast her eyes around the bar in mild panic.

Too short, too tall, I'd look like a dwarf, too horny, too ugly, too... whoa.

Across the room, Syaoran Li stood leaning against a banister. He'd spotted a beautiful brunette, and was enjoying himself watching her move. And how she moved. He was beginning to enjoy himself. He hadn't enjoyed himself at a bar for far too long. Meilin had made sure of that. He shouldn't have stayed with her for so long. Still, who could blame him? One look at her perfect body all wrapped up in her perfect clothes like a cute, pink present, any guy would have given her anything her little heart wanted. Too bad she wanted marriage from him. Lucky he had yanked himself from her vice-like arms while he could.

Beside him, he could here the never-ending chatter of Mortimer Davis. If he hadn't been an employee for the company Syaoran would have been thankful not to have known him. The guy was as irritating as he was a dickhead, and Syaoran was tuning him out while checking out the brunette. She really was not bad. Great legs.

Franco Buisette, Syaoran's right-hand man and the reason why he had been whined into coming to this bar in the first place, followed Syaoran's gaze to where the girl stood.

He raised his eyebrow. "Not bad, you should go for it. Be a piece of cake for you, eh? Syao old buddy?"

Syaoran shook his head and took in her yellow dress. It hugged everywhere; it should be illegal to let her wear that thing out. "Nah. I just got out of 6 months of hell. I don't think that's the right direction to turn just right now.".

"What?" Mortimer, annoyed at having been interrupted from what he thought of as his conversation with the boss, turned and saw what both Syaoran and Franco were looking at now. He turned back with a grin. "Yeah. You should go for her. Heard you were a legend, Syaoran," he secretly delighted at calling the boss by his first name. "You should go for her. Tell you what. Business aside, I'll bet you a thousand dollars to bed her. I'll give you... let's say... a month."

Syaoran looked at Mortimer with distaste. "That's a stupid bet. Who'd bet on a thing like that?"

"It's one grand, Syaoran, and besides, don't tell me you think she's too difficult for even you to nail? You're the great Syaoran Li! Tell you what. You take her out today, and you get ten bucks upfront, how 'bout that? Don't tell me you can't even get her to go with you tonight." Mortimer had no idea just how close he was to being fired.

Franco, eager to jump to Syaoran's defense, said "Of course he can take her to dinner. And to bed. Girls do everything he tells them, afterall. No problem."

"What?! No no no, no bet. Mortimer, I think you've had a little too much to drink... is that Meiling?" Syaoran glanced to the right of the brunette to the entrance of the bar, where, sure enough, he saw a flash of shiny black hair.

Franco patted Syaoran's stiff shoulder, and they all waited until, inevitably, Meiling locked eyes on them. Sauntering over, her pink-clad hips swaying seductively, she finally reached the railing of the little alcove of a platform that the regulars laughingly and fondly called a balcony.

She leaned against the railing much like Syaoran was doing, making sure all eyes were on her. "Hello Syaoran, Franco. How've you been?"

Franco was talking again. "So how about it? Just go ask her. I'm sure she'll go with you, man."

Meilin heard and immediately latched onto his wrist. "Her? Is Syaoran seeing anybody?" She pressed her chest into his arm. Feeling the soft flesh give, Syaoran looked down and felt his body reponding. Meilin could always use her body to her advantage. He firmly tugged his arm free and walked off the balcony, saying "Yes, I'm seeing someone.", then went over to the bar where the brunette was standing.

Sakura was busy scolding herself while she nursed the last few drops of beer in her mug. Every woman with working ovaries probably thought the same thing as she had when she set eyes on the brown-haired guy in the black suit. I want him. He really did look like a god. She was sure that thick, messy hair was as naturally chocolate brown as that tanned skin. Having worked in the fashion industry with Tomoyo for years, Sakura knew when a tan was as fake as the light that made it or when hair was colored. The body was first class, too. Lean and tall, filled with subtle muscles.

That man was every inch a superb male specimen. Who probably played with girls as a hobby, she thought in disgust. She had just downed the last bit of beer before getting her purse to leave, but turned into a solid, warm chest. She looked up, and saw the god himself. She nearly melted into a puddle when he smiled a smile so inviting and charming that she was overcome by the need to look away from it to protect herself. This man was a danger to all women.

"Good evening miss. My name is Syaoran Li. May I buy you dinner?"

And that's the first chapter. I'd like any comments, thanks.


	2. I Don't Think So

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

I don't Think So

Sakura stared at him. She didn't want to, but it was so hard. He was standing right in front of her, for the first thing, and taking up every inch of her vision. He was... too charming.

She started to get irritated. What did he think she would do? Offer to eat dinner with a complete stranger? But that's usually the way it's done, Sakura, a little voice in her head reminded her. You start out as strangers.

But Sakura wasn't having any of that. She had just opened her mouth to tell him where to shove his misplaced ego, when she remembered. The wedding. She needed a date. He wanted a date. It was perfect! If he could just refrain from sliming her all over with his charm, they may just survive this.

Then she caught sight of Mortimer , an exotic-looking man and a petite, pretty girl with black hair and eyes that seemed to glint red trying to look at her descreetly from the balcony which Syaoran just came from. Obviously this was some kind of scam. Well, she never strived to be normal. And Mortimer deserved a show, didn't he?

She fixed Syaoran with another expression. The bored one she'd spent hours practicing in the mirror to perfect just for occasions like these. "I'm Sakura Kinomoto, and I never say no to a free meal. Let's go."

She swung her bag from the counter and strode ahead of him to the entrance. Once outside, Syaoran ushered her into the front seat of a sleek black Jag. Before she could close the door, Syaoran said, "Give me a minute, I've forgotten something." and walked back into the bar.

Sitting outside in the dark, Sakura studied the neon lights of the bar. The Dewberry. Sakura had no idea why she kept going back there. The ambience and decor was almost painfully amaturish. At least the drinks were good. She had the sudden thought that Tomoyo had better appreciate what Sakura was doing for her.

Inside, Syaoran had made it back to the balcony, and was now palming a crisp ten dollar bill from a shocked Mortimer. "I'll see you two Monday.". With that, he strode back out.

Franco was smirking at Mortimer's blank face. Meilin looked lost. He patted Mortimer's hand and turned to go as well, saying, "Gotta go. I'll see you girls soon, eh?"

Left alone, Mortimer and Meilin stared at each other. Meilin cleared her throat and asked," Who is she?".

"My ex-girlfriend. I dumped her. I think... I made a mistake." Mortimer swallowed loudly and gazed longingly at the door. He started to tell Meilin everything. It wasn't like he had anything more to lose. He'd already lost Sakura.

"You let go of her just because she wouldn't sleep with you?! What kind of a man are you?! Now she's off with Syaoran, the man I love! You have to help me get him back. I'll not accept anything else." Meilin nearly growled at him.

"Hey, it's not like that! I've been with her over two months! It's what a boyfriend would expect!" Mortimer tried to defend himself, but soon deflated when he realised it hadn't done anything good for his relationship with Sakura, who was now probably having some romantic dinner with his boss. Oh crap.

Syaoran and Sakura had gotten out of the car, which was parked right in front of a small Italian restaurant. Syaoran reached over her lap to open the door for her. Instead of blushing as he had expected, she merely raised and eyebrow and got out onto the curb. Syaoran soon stood beside her, both looking at the pleasant green awning sporting the name of the restaurant in descreet colors. Antonello's.

"My friend's father's restaurant." Syaoran said in explanation, and smiled his special smile at her again. This time, Sakura shrugged off his guiding arm and faced him.

"Look. I don't know what you've got going with your friends, but you can stop being charming now. It's really great that you'd go through all this trouble to find the lines, but I really don't need them.". Her gaze never wavered from his, and his smile immediately dropped from is face, and he frowned.

Syaoran couldn't understand. He was charming, damnit. No one had ever said different. What a cranky girl. Couldn't she just pretend, for God's sake? Didn't she have any social skills at all? He settled for saying. "Fine. Let's just eat and get it over with."

Sakura nodded and walked in first. She stopped just in the doorway and gaped. It was the most beautiful restaurant she'd ever seen. She felt as if she'd walked right into Italy, into a local restaurant. The tables were small and quiet, and nothing was overstated and everything had a sense of dignity and pride to it. Suddenly, a small, obviously Italian man ran out and cuffed Syaoran on the ear. "I told you, I'm closed after 10!"

Syaoran sighed and told Sakura resignedly, "This is Antonello. He loves me. Can you tell?"

Sakura giggled. A light, tinkling sound, and smiled at Antonello. "You're restaurant looks lovely, Antonello. It's the best Italian restaurant I've ever been in! Are you really closing, though? I'd definitely come back tomorrow."

Antonello took one look at Sakura and a grin split his wrinkled face nearly in half. "For you, my dear, I am open day and night. Please, sit, sit.". He pulled up a chair for Sakura and plopped menus in front of both of them. "Tell me whatever you want. I'll make it for you as fast as my old fingers can move!"

Sakura looked up at Antonello with a glittering light in her eyes and a smile and said, "Whatever's good. I trust your judgement. Thank you so much." All Syaoran could think of as he looked at Sakura was 'Look at me that way.' Then he shook himself and ordered.

When the bread came Sakura nearly dove into it. The smell was far too enticing to resist. With one bite, she settled back into her seat. Her face relaxed, a lovely pink hue colored her cheeks, her eyes closed, and she sighed blissfully, chewing with a soft smile.

Syaoran watched her. He couldn't look away. She looked like she was in the middle of some really hot sex. Okay, the bread was good, but it wasn't that good. Staring at her while she took a second bite and dissolved all over again, he started to get really warm.

"Mmm. This bread is amazing. I can't wait for the main course!" Sakura grinned at him, then remembered he was a slimy beast. Her smile dropped. In seconds, as if beckoned, Antonello swooped through the swinging double doors leading to the kitchen, hoisting two large plates of chicken and two bowls of soup expertly.

Now, my dear, you will try Antonello's chicken marinated in wine sauce. It is my secret recepe!" Sakura grabbed up her spoon and fork obediently and began digging in. When he saw the blissful look cross her face again, Syaoran abrubtly turned to his own chicken. He'd already made up his mind about her being a high-maintenance, cantankerous woman, and he didn't intend to change it. Her expression was very... persuasive. Antonello, however, was clearly in love with her. He nearly burst out of his apron with pride when she beamed at him and said, "You're a genius, Antonello! This chicken is wonderful! The best I've ever tasted.". She stood up and kissed his ruddy cheek. In all his years of knowing him, Syaoran had never seen the stoic Antonello blush before.

"Hey! I bought the dinner. And chose the restaurant." Syaoran felt the strange need to defend himself.

Sakura pursed her lips and thought. Then she said, "I guess you do get credit for that." Antonello gave him a look that said 'You keep this one. I like her.'

Syaoran scowled, thinking about all the crap he would be getting from Antonello once he heard that this would be their first and last date.

After Sakura kissed Antonello goodbye with a promise to be back soon, both of them stood outside on the sidewalk. New York beamed down upon them, the late hours not preventing practically the entire population from being outside, clogging the streets, swearing at each other, running everywhere in a mad rush.

Sakura breathed deeply. How she loved New York City. Syaoran was still wondering if her expression while eating would reappear in bed or not, and was torturing himself imagining that it did.

They finally turned toward each other. "Well, thanks for the dinner." Sakura spoke first.

"Yeah. No problem.". There was an akward silence. Syaoran broke it by saying, "Yeah well, have a nice life.", before walking away from her down the street. Sakura turned in the opposite direction and began to walk. Here were two strangers who never expected to see each other ever again.

And that's chapter two. Thanks for reading.


	3. Not Again

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Not Again

Sakura shifted on the overstuffed, uncomfortable couch the store had put there specifically to torture people who came in and didn't buy anything. She had to speak to Tomoyo about it. Tomoyo Daidouji, soon to be Mrs Eriol Hiiragizawa, stood on a platform in the centre of the room, studying a wedding dress in front of a platoon of mirrors, and a fawning attendant.

She placed her hands on her hips and stared critically at herself. Her experienced eye thought and re-thought about what she wanted, and addressed the attendant, who was hovering nearby. "Susan, if you would be so kind as to bring me the peach one. I don't think I want to follow the norm."

Susan practically sprang into action. Sakura was surprised she didn't break her heel, swivelling like that to dash out the door and do Tomoyo's bidding. She was the boss, and she definitely knew what she wanted. Not only the boss, she was the designer too, so no questions asked.

Sakura rose from her seat, wincing at the crick in her back. She had been there for over three hours already. This hadn't been what she had in mind when Tomoyo had called to ask her out.

"Tomoyo, you already look so beautiful. Why try on all the white ones if you didn't want to wear white?" She tried hard to keep a whine from her voice, but she badly wanted to leave the store. Being a partner and doing all the accounts had kept her at the store for longer than she liked, and the last thing she wanted was to spend her Saturday there as well.

"Oh Sakura. I don't know if I made the right decision by using one of ours. Maybe I'd like something better if it weren't mine." Tomoyo looked so forlorn, Sakura had to relent. She went up to Tomoyo and sat next to her feet on the platform. They both looked at the other's reflections in the mirrors.

"Tomoyo, of course you had to use one of ours. You made it, so it's all the more special. And I think the peach one is the best anyway. Now can we go? Please?" She couldn't take it anymore. Honestly, she loved the business, but she was hungry. And nothing stood in the way of her and food.

Tomoyo laughed daintily. "All right Sakura. We can go. Just let me try on the peach dress first."

Sakura groaned and collapsed across Tomoyo's feet.

When they finally arrived at Teasers, the new bar that had opened up along Fifth Line Street, Sakura was nearly weeping with relief. Tomoyo was beaming with happiness. She had found her dream dress at last. It was going to be the perfect wedding, the one she had always wanted.

They settled themselves at the bar and ordered beers. Sakura grasped hers like a dying man did a lifeline. It had been a long day. Suddenly, Tomoyo nudged her with her elbow.

"What? What?! Stop it, you're digging into my ribs already, Tomoyo! What is it?!" Sakura twisted on her bar stool to glare at her best friend in the whole wide world.

Tomoyo was unfazed. "That guy. Across the room. I think he's staring at you. Ooh... he's cute." she grabbed Sakura's shoulders and turned her to face in the direction of the mystery guy.

"You're a soon-to-be happily married woman, you know Tom-" Sakura stopped short as she locked eyes with Syaoran Li.

Syaoran could not believe his luck. Just as he'd spotted a beautiful black-haired girl he was thinking of asking out, her companion turned out to be the annoying, uncharmable Miss Sakura Kinomoto. Life was so unfair. He chose to disregard at the moment his five pieces of property and millions of dollars in the bank.

Franco burst into laughter beside him. "I bet you-"

"Don't even think about it." Syaoran cut him off, then remembered how Sakura looked when she ate. "Ten bucks if I take her to dinner again."

Franco thought about it. "Twenty if you manage tomorrow's lunch too. She looks like she's in a bad mood."

"Deal." They shook on it, and Syaoran started walking over to Sakura.

Sakura's mind scrambled. He was coming over! The slimeball still thought he could score! What was he, infallible? Invincible? Indelible lipstick? She geared herself for the most brutal letdown she could bring down upon his head."You can just-"

Syaoran adressed Tomoyo. "Miss, can you give me the pleasure of buying you dinner?" All the wind went out of Sakura's sails as Tomoyo giggled.

"I'm sorry, but I'm happily engaged. Sakura's free though! She hasn't eaten dinner too. You can take her!"

Sakura growled low in her throat as she was not-so-subtly pushed into Syaoran's path. Tomoyo's eyes, filled with a guilt-inducing expression, forced her forward to Syaoran. Tomoyo was reminding her silently that she still needed a date for the wedding. Sakura's own eyes were filled more with resignation than anything else.

"Let's get it over with then." At her easy agreement, Syaoran was stunned into immobility for a moment. He'd expected to infuriate Sakura enough to challenge her to go out with him, but this... this was just suspicious.

When Sakura saw the familiar green awning her mood improved. Antonello greeted her like a long lost daughter.

"Sit down, my dear, and Antonello will bring to you today's special, yes? It's fish today. The freshest fish in all of New York!" He patted her hand and swooped off to deliver his promise.

Syaoran sat, having been completely ignored by Antonello, and guessed he was going to be eating the fish as well. "So... how've you been?". He was really putting an effort with the lines that usually slip so easily from his lips.

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "You mean since I saw you yesterday? Fine, I guess." she nearly giggled at Syaoran's put-off look.

Before too soon, the food came, set down upon the table with a flourish. Once again, Sakura obediently speared a piece of fish with her fork and put in in her mouth while Antonello stood and watched expectantly.

Her eyes closed and her mouth curved, her cheeks going pink again. "Oh my god, Antonello, this fish is fantastic! I feel like I've died and gone to heaven!"

"Yeah, me too." Syaoran said dryly. The room seemed uncomfortably warm again. He had to remember to tell Antonello to fix the damn air conditioner.

Sakura ignored him and put another bite of the tangy sourness in her mouth, and Antonello beamed at her and went back into the kitchen, pride gleaming across his features.

The rest of the dinner past by without event, other than the gradual heating of the restaurant, to Syaoran's mind.

Finally, Sakura's eyes opened, revealing misted green eyes. Syaoran was overcome by the urge to lunge across the table to kiss the the mist into fog. Instead, he said, "Are you free tomorrow?".

Her eyes cleared abrubtly and Syaoran wished he'd never spoken. "Why?" Sakura asked.

"I would like to take you to lunch. Will you have lunch with me?"

Sakura thought again about Tomoyo, the wedding and the date. She sighed inwardly. "All right then. Where are we going?"

Thanks to those who reviewed.


	4. Risky Business

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Risky Business

Syaoran was feeling pretty good about himself. Sakura hadn't come, and that was making his day. At least he didn't have some cranky, fiesty witch to deal with today. Last night, he had almost believed she put a spell on him. But she hadn't come, and he was happy where he was.

Central park was truly glorious this time in the spring. It was warmer than winter, and cooler than summer, and the trees were swaying above him in the light breeze. The soft sunlight shone down but didn't scorch, and Syaoran's lazy gaze travelled across the other poeple and their blankets in the shade.

Suddenly, his gaze caught on Sakura's lone figure trudging unevenly toward him. She held her navy sandals in one hand, her skirt was flapping gently in the wind, her auburn hair was slightly mussed and her green eyes were flashing along with her grin.

He was suddenly a lot more glad she'd come.

Sakura dropped her sandals beside the checkered blanket Syaoran had spread out and plopped her butt down on a corner. "So, what's for lunch?".

"Hello to you too." Syaoran looked at her, and was suddenly grinning. She really did look very cute, with her bob hair cut and those straight bangs. He cleared his throat. "The very best in fine dining, my lady. I present to you..." he whipped off the cloth from the top of the picnic basket beside him. "The ultimate hamburger!". He lifted a cling-wrapped burger out and passed it to her, then took one out for himself.

Sakura stared at the burger in her hand for a moment, then burst into laughter. Syaoran found himself laughing along with her. She really did have a nice laugh.

"I suppose you made this, then?" she pointed to the burger.

"It's my secret recepe." he winked, reminding her of Antonello, and offered his cheek for her to kiss.

She gave a rather unlady-like snort and bit into her hamburger. Her eyes closed again, and Syaoran watched the usual processes cross her face again, eager for more like he'd never desired anything else before.

Sakura opened her eyes to see Syaoran staring at her with a strange expression on his face. "I hate to say this, but you were right. This really is the ultim-" then his mouth was on hers.

He watched her face. With the taste of the sauce still on her tongue, she was the most exotic thing he'd ever tasted. Her lids fluttered down and her lashes cast shadows on her rosy cheeks.

The last thing he thought of was, 'The expression's still there.'. Then he stopped thinking completely.

Sakura drew away on a shaking breath. 'What am I doing? He's the slimeball, remember? You just need him for the wedding. No touching required.'

"We - we should get back. It's almost-"

"Oh no, no you don't." He dragged her back to him.

Sparks exploded behind her eyelids as they lowered again. Thoughts jumbled up in her brain, then blanked out, leaving only one left. 'I want him.'.

When they finally separated, Syaoran confused her by saying, "Why in hell do you have to eat like that?".

"I - what? What are you talking about? I eat like every other person. You - you're the strange one, grabbing me like that." She managed to glare quite successfully at him.

"I mean the way you look when you eat. You look weird." He didn't want to mention that it drove him crazy.

Sakura folded her arms and frowned at him. "I do not look weird when I eat. How would you know what the norm for eating is? You don't strike me as a very conventional person. For all I know, you snort it up your nose. Now that would be funny." Sakura began to laugh out loud all by herself.

Syaoran couldn't help but like her just a little bit more. He started to laugh too. "And here I thought we would feel akward." he said dryly.

"I'm going to finish my burger now. Let me eat it, okay? Get a grip.". She kept one eye on his wry face while she polished off the best burger she had ever eaten. "Mmm... you should definitely open a shop or something."

"As long as you promise to be a regular.". Syaoran's irresistable - or at least up till he met Sakura Kinomoto - smile dropped from his face when Sakura shot a warning look at him. "Sorry, sorry. Force of habit.". He managed to look sheepish, cute, charming and manly all at the same time. All without trying, the bastard. She remembered what she had thought the night she first saw him. He was a danger to all women.

No touching, she reminded herself, even though she was practically dying to. It really wasn't worth the risk. Just a few days in his company and she had weakened enough to kiss him. Mortimer hadn't been able to kiss her until the end of the first month. Still, no kiss she'd had before had ever been quite like that. Syaoran Li was a force unto his own. Wedding or no, she'd taken care of herself too well to take a risk of this magnitude.

Syaoran had been studying her features all this while. He could practically see the gears moving in her head. Well, he'd also come to the same conclusion. Sakura was too... he didn't exactly know, but she was too much of it. He didn't think he could take her, to tell the truth. A few days with her and he wanted to do everything for her, everything to her. He'd always prided himself on being more than just a gland around beautiful women he went out with, but Sakura was... too much.

"Okay. Let's just get this over with. Thank you for the lunch. I enjoyed it very much. I'll see you around." Sakura grinned at him and rose from the blanket.

Syaoran couldn't resist. He caught her hand and tugged her down to him for one last peck on the lips. "Yeah," he said as she pushed away and stood glaring down at him, "have a nice life."

He watched her walk away, barefoot again, wondering if he'd ever see her again.

Once again, thanks to all those who reviewed. You guys encourage me to carry on. Thanks!


	5. Chuck Norris and Pigs

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Chuck Norris and Pigs

It was Tuesday. Sakura hated Tuedays. You were too deep into the week to turn back to the weekends, and you were too far away from Friday to justify slacking off. Usually she loved doing the accounts for the store - it always made her feel a part of what she always considered to be Tomoyo's territory - but she'd been feeling so... itchy lately. Since Sunday, to be exact. That awful Sunday afternoon that she refused to believe had anything to do with how... itchy she'd been feeling. She just needed to go outside and do something, not sit in the quaint little office in the back of the store and balance books.

Whever she thought about it, Sakura was still surprised that she became an accountant. Her Math in school was abysmal, yet here she was, crunching numbers for a store that was half hers. She wondered if it was fate. She'd never have believed it.

Raising her hands above her head, she stretched. She had one last figure to do. The sales of the past week still had to be accounted for. Relaxing again, Sakura worked for the next hour.

Whe Tomoyo came in at half past four, Sakura was nearly done. "Wait, wait wait... there! All done! Now I won't need to worry about them till next week! Want to go to The Grey Lagoon, Tomoyo?"

Tomoyo shook her head and smiled indulgently. "No, no, I have to finish these designs for Cathy. Her wedding's three months from now, and she's a stickler, as you know. You go ahead. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sakura leant over and kissed Tomoyo's cheek, but frowned. Without Tomoyo, she didn't feel much like drinking. Once outside on the street, she decided that she would go watch a movie. Afterall, only adults got to watch movies on weekdays, and Sakura cherished the number twenty-five, her age, like she would a dear friend. Chuckling at her own childishness, Sakura bought a copy of that day's New York Times from a street vendor, smiling at his jaded, suspicious face. How she loved New York.

She took a taxi to the cinema, then stood on the sidewalk and studied the newspaper. A revival of Chuck Norris's 'Breaker! Breaker!' was playing. "Hmm... Chuck Norris...A truck driver searching for his brother who has disappeared in a town run by a corrupt judge... Sounds good! Chuck Norris saves the world!" she said.

After paying for her ticket, she went in and sat down in the back row, next to an occupied seat. The movie started.

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Mortimer had been cornered by Meilin in his office. She was wearing blue today. A fierce electric blue that seared the eyes wherever you looked. Didn't stop Mortimer from looking, though. Her body was one of the best pieces of work he'd ever seen. he wondered how much of it was plastic.

"You have to get her back. Just go and grovel or something. Get her back!" Meilin's pert little body was confusing him. He couldn't think straight.

"Wait. Grovel? It's not my fault! She was on her way to becoming frigid!" his eyes nearly went slack. All it took was one zipper. One tiny zipper to hold that catsuit together.

Meilin followed his gaze and rolled her eyes. "Get her back and I'll give you some of this, okay?" she ran the zipper down and up again, leading Mortimer's eyes like a yo-yo.

He was feeling a little dizzy, and gave up the fight. "When?" he asked.

Sakura stood up and filed out of the cinema. She had enjoyed the simple fight of good and evil. Problems these days were never as simple as she'd like them to be. Suddenly, someone weaved through the crowd to walk in front of her. She distinctly remembered the person's leather sleeve from the glimpse of it she'd had in the cinema. She'd always wanted a leather jacket, but never felt that she could justify splurging all that money on something she didn't need. She absently let her eyes travel up the sleeve to the back of the man's collar. Hmm, that man really filled out his jacket well... and all that thick brown hair...

She stopped short, and the person behind her bumped into her and began swearing. "Sorry, sorry," Sakura apologised feebly. She tried walking on down the corridor, but too late - Syaoran had already turned around at the commotion. Once again, they locked eyes on each other. The world went quiet.

Once outside in the pleasantly cool spring breeze, Sakura and Syaoran faced each other silently. Sakura couldn't take the shadowed, carefully blank look he was giving her, and spoke first. "You - you were watching-"

"Chuck Norris, yeah."

"You were sitting in-"

"G21."

"This is just a coincidence. It's a small world, anyway." Sakura glanced at Syaoran's face, trying to see his reaction.

"New York City has a population of 8 million people." he replied simply. Truthfully, this was getting strange.

"Ahh, third time's the charm, so this must be it. I - I've gotta get back. Bye." Sakura turned around and walked swiftly out of sight.

Syaoran shook his head and walked over to his car. He felt hungry, for some reason, but food felt like only part of it.

Sakura got out of the elevator and walked toward her apartment. She was still slightly in shock, but it registered faintly that Mortimer was sitting on the ground outside her door. She looked at him for a moment. She remembered how she made the mistake of finding him handsome once upon a time. The world was filled with handsome guys, most of which are slimeballs. 'But Syaoran's a god.' she thought, then chided herself. She was never going to see the man again.

She decided not to let Mortimer in, and stood leaning against her door, looking down at him. "What do you want?" she asked, arms folded.

Mortimer scrambled to his feet. "Um, Sakura, I was giving it some thought, and I realised that I'd made a mistake. I would really like for us to get back together." He leaned towards her, positive she would yield and fall into his arms.

Sakura raised a brow, then saw that he was serious. She snorted and turned to unlock her door. The keys jingled as they went back into her shoulder bag. She faced him again, one hand on the doorknob. "You know, Mortimer, I realised that I'd made a mistake too."

Mortimer nodded, sure that she was going to invite him in.

"Two months is an awfully long time to waste on a pig like you." she slid behind her door before he could answer, and snapped it shut in his face. Through the peephole, she saw him stare dumbfoundedly at her door, then turn and walk down the corridor.

"Have a nice life!" she added in his wake, shouting through the wood.

She felt triumphant. She felt victorius. She felt... hungry.

Antonello answered on the second ring. Relieved she'd gotten the right number, Sakura slammed the Yellowpages closed. "Antonello, this is Sakura. I was wondering, do you do deliveries?"

Syaoran leaned against the cashier counter, listening with half-an-ear to Antonello talking jovially on the phone.Antonello's italian accent was always more pronounced when he was enjoying himself. Syaoran wondered who was on the line. Finally, Antonello put down the phone and said, "Syaoran, you do a delivery for Antonello, okay? You get a tip, my customer get a dinner, everybody is a happy." he beamed encouragingly.

Syaoran looked at him like he was crazy, which he probably was, a bit. "You don't do deliveries."

"For special people, I do. Remember when you were young, you always did it for me! Go, go now. I don't want to see you until you tell me you have delivered this," he pointed at a professionally packed dish of chicken, "to here." he pointed at the address he'd written down on paper.

Grumbling, Syaoran stalked to the door, chicken andpaper in hand. "You were supposed to feed me, you know. I came here to be fed!" he slammed out of the restaurant, leaving a chuckling Antonello behind.

At last, he got out of his car and went up to the apartment building. He'd nearly gotten lost twice, and decided that Antonello would have to give him two free meals to make up for that. He pressed the buzzer for the correct apartment, and a lady answered.

"Yes?" funny how she sounded familiar, but he just couldn't place her.

"Your delivery." he spoke into the little white box. He hated those little white boxes. They always made him feel like he was talking to a machine instead of a real person. That's why he stayed in a proper house with more rooms than he needed.

"Come on up." the door unlocked.

He stepped out of the elevator and was soon up to the door. He rang the doorbell, and it swung open seconds later.

"Your deliv-" he stared at Sakura, and Sakura stared back at him.

Hope you enjoy chapter 5, and thanks to all those who bothered to read my story. You make my day!


	6. No Escape

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

No Escape

Trying to get over the shock, Syaoran tried again. "Your delivery." he lofted the plastic bag he was holding.

Sakura was trying to come to terms with her situation. Would she ever escape him? She said the first thing that came to her mind. "You're a delivery boy?! For Antonello?!"

"No, Antonello asked me to-" Now he knew who to blame. Honestly, he loved the old man, but now he had to die. "Um, to deliver your food."

Unexpectedly, Sakura gave him a bright grin. "So it's Antonello, eh? Nevermind. Come on in. Let me get my wallet. How much is it?"

"I'll take care of it."

"Hmm. Okay then, but the least I owe you is some of this chicken." she nipped the bag out of his hand and spread out it's contents on her small dining table, leaving Syaoran to close the door behind him and look around.

Her apartment was on the large side, with three rooms, a living room and a kitchen. Her stuff was cluttered everywhere, and he guessed that it wouldn't change even if she'd gotten a bigger space. On the narrow island separating her kitchen from her dining area, there stood a collection of Disney porcelain dolls. Bending down to study them, he asked, "So you like porcelain dolls? You don't seem the type."

She was busy wrestling with the wrapping of the chicken. "What type? And not really. It's just that I lost the porcelain doll of Simba from The Lion King my mother had given me when I moved here, and my friends just kept trying to replace it with- Oh look! Antonello packed two portions! Hmm... How if I just took the chicken and left you outside? This Antonello is sneaky." She lifted her head and caught him staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing. Let's eat." Syaoran sat down opposite her at the table, his knees slightly brushing hers. He didn't bother to move away, and neither did she.

He caught the enticing smell of the chicken even before the final layer of plastic was removed, and he suddenly realised that he was in for a torturous meal. Sakura, oblivious to his pain and anticipation, speared a piece of chicken and put it in her mouth. The wonderful taste spread all over and she moaned.

Syaoran found himself leaning closer and closer to her as she chewed. When she finally opened her eyes, he was there. She closed her eyes again as his lips touched hers, and she poured herself into the kiss.

Sakura felt the heat warm up her entire body, and when he sat back, she suddenly felt cold. "I - I think, ever since I met you on Friday, I've been eating some really delicious food. This does have it's good points." she smiled and continued eating, careful to downplay her instinctive reaction to good food.

Syaoran caught the pink tint that she couldn't hide, and grinned at her. He felt like Antonello deserved more thanks and praise than blame at this point. They finished their meal without more events, and before too long Syaoran was once again standing at her door.

"Let's put some effort into it this time, alright? It won't have anymore meaning if I keep saying 'Have a nice life' and I'm here to see it happen. Let's try this time, to keep out of each others' way, how 'bout that?" Syaoran leaned agained the door frame and smiled down at Sakura.

"I'm trying, I'm trying, but it's not working!" Sakura said with a hint of desperation as she worked to keep her own smile off her face. "Just go already." she laid both hands on his chest and pushed him bodily out the door, chuckling at his back as he raised a hand in a wave before turning the corner and walking out of sight.

Backing back into her apartment, she closed the door and leaned against it. She wondered if she would ever see him again. Five days and she'd already seen him four times. She shook her head and told herself to stop dreaming. Fate was for the fairytales.

In his own apartment at last, Mortimer opened the door wearily to an enraged Meilin. She greeted him with, "What do you mean, she didn't take you back?! You were supposed to get her back and not take 'No' for an answer!"

He leaned back against the nearest wall. Only five minutes ago did he fully realise how big a mistake he had made, dumping Sakura, the best thing that had ever happened to him. "She said the two months we had was a mistake. She said I was a pig." He picked a spot on the opposite wall and stared at it. He needed a drink.

Meilin's hand itched to slap him, the loser. "No, no this is unacceptable! I love Syaoran! I'm going to marry him, and no one's going to say different except me! We have to think, that's all. What would break them apart, permanently? Sakura seems like a very headstrong, secure woman to me. What would compromise that?"

Mortimer sighed. He didn't want to compromise Sakura. He wanted a drink with a passion. But he put in an effort. "I don't know. That someone didn't want her for herself?" Like him, he reminded himself painfully. He'd wanted sex. Now he'd lost Sakura.

Meilin looked at him like he was a usually disappointing student who'd had a breakthrough. She smiled, and her rigid posture became fluid again. He looked at her in all her perky glory, and Sakura flew right out of his head.

Sakura glanced at the calender. It was Thursday. It was - almost - two more weeks till the wedding, and still no date. Maybe she could hire a male companion... Sakura shook her head and laughed weakly. Tomoyo would flip. Then again, between an accompanied Sakura and a dateless Sakura... well maybe Tomoyo would pick the obvious choice, and give her best friend a break.

Tomoyo walked into the office just as Sakura was packing up to leave. "Tomoyo, why is it that I absolutely need a date to your wedding?" she asked as casually as she knew how.

"Because," Tomoyo started with long-suffering patience, "Your invitation says to include a friend, and you've been alone far too long!"

"Mortimer just broke up with me! Maybe I need time to recover! Maybe I don't want to rebound onto the very next creep who comes along. Maybe I-"

"Maybe you need Syaoran Li." Tomoyo finished for her, with the irritating certainty of a best friend. Sakura gave her a bland look. "Look, I'll make it easier for you. I'll invite him to the wedding, and all you have to do is offer him a ride or something."

"There's no need, and I don't have a car anyway. He does." Sakura was feeling grimmer and glummer by the minute.

"Or something it is then! Ask him for a ride." Without giving Sakura time for the witty response she so wanted to throw back and her, Tomoyo scooped up the fabric book she had gone in to take and walked back out the door in a flurry of skirts.

At seven on the dot, Sakura left the store and took a taxi to Antonello's. She was in need of some cheering up.

Antonello heartily welcomed her and sat her down, "At my best table, my dear."

After a few minutes of such warm attention, Sakura began to feel much better. She had a corner booth, the most private Antonello could offer, and sat with her back facing the door.

"Suggest something, Antonello, and I'll take your word for it." she smiled at him, and he was nearly beside himself with excitement as he went off to "Cook you the best pasta in the world!"

Somehow, she was no longer surprised when Syaoran walked through the door.

And that's chapter 6. Thanks for reading.


	7. Friends

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Friends At Last

Sakura turned her head at the soft tinkling of bells that signalled that someone had come into the restaurant. She guessed it was too much to ask that Syaoran not come in the one night she was here.

Syaoran narrowed his eyes at the girl in the back booth peeping at him. Was that Sakura kinomoto? Yes, it was her all right. He'd recognise her anywhere. He couldn't help but smile, and walked over to her.

Sakura watch him sit down in front of her without any invitation. "I thought you were going to try harder." he commented.

"I was, but then you had to come in and spoil all my effort."

"Half-baked effort." He smirked and she gave him a patronising look. The smirk fell off his face.

"I think it would be rediculous to try to fight it, so let's be friends. We could have a very friendly dinner together, like we've been doing these past few days." She said it so primly and so matter-of-fact that it just made him want to get her all ruffled again. In the best way he knew how.

"All right. We'll do it your way first, and if it doesn't work, then we'll do it mine."

Sakura looked suspiciously at him and said, "What's your way?" She didn't trust that smug smile for a second.

"I'll go and tell Antonello we want to order." He stood up and walked to the kitchen doors, leaving Sakura glaring at his back, and not to mention at his rather fine behind.

When Syaoran walked back toward the table he saw Sakura swinging her legs, unabashedly looking at him as he walked. At last he stood beside her. Her white skirt was in stark contrast to the plush red seats. Her cheeks bloomed a light pink as he stared at her. He saw the mist start to cross her eyes, and she licked her lips. Then he was on top of her.

Her hands gripped his shirt, not pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Her head lowered onto the seat as he crawled into the booth, both elbows on either side of her face.

His warmth was surrounding her as his tongue touched hers. He was in turns both infinitely tender yet arousingly firm. The friction of his lips on hers and his exotic taste drove her senses wild. Her hands slid up to circle his neck and pull him closer. His mouth moved and took her deeper under the waves of desire, of need.

Stroking her fanned hair with one hand, he lifted his mouth an inch from hers and asked, "Still want to be friends?"

Reality came crashing down, dragging her reluctantly back to earth. Her disappointment showed clearly on her face as she whispered, "Yes, I do."

He didn't move. "To tell you the truth, I don't". She started to say something, but he descended upon her again, and she could do nothing but hold him close, promising herself that it would be the last time.

Her mouth moved slickly under his, and tongues slid sensuously over the other. Sakura moaned, fully understanding why instinct had warned her that he would be dangerous when she first met him.

Finally, he lifted his head again, and his tongue lazily licked her bottom lip. "I'd like to finish this in a more private place, but I don't think you'd appreciate that when you have time to think about it, so you want to catch a movie after dinner?"

Sakura blinked twice and managed to answer normally from her rather comfortable position beneath him, "I think the Chuck Norris revival is still on. I've been wanting to catch An Eye For An Eye."

He gave her one more friendly peck, then got off of her. When he sat down on his own side of the booth, he signalled to Antonello to bring the menus. Antonello came and presented them the menus with a cheeky look in his eye, as if he knew exactly what had been going on in the booth. Sakura just barely prevented herself from squirming. She glared at Syaoran like it was all his fault.

After more exclamations about the food and discomfort on Syaoran's part, the meal was finally completed and Sakura was sliding into the front seat of Syaoran's black jag parked just in front of the restaurant.

The movie was one that didn't require much thinking to follow, and both of them enjoyed the rest of the relaxing evening.

When Syaoran at last walked her up to her door, she turned to face him and said, "See? This friends thing isn't so bad. We can do this."

"Sure." He stood, waiting for her to get inside.

Sakura kissed him on the cheek quickly before she retreated behind her door, whispering, "I'll see you soon.". Through the peephole she watched him turn with a smile on his face and walk back down the corridor whistling.

Syaoran was in an especially good mood the next day, and he showed it in a rare burst of frivolity at work.

"Franco! Buddy! Did you finish the report?" He clapped Franco on the shoulder.

Franco grinned. He guessed correctly what had caused Syaoran to act this way. He must've gotten lucky last night, with a certain green-eyed spitfire. "Yes, I have. Get a grip, man."

Syaoran could only chuckle. "I've made a new friend." and closed his office door behind him.

Mortimer waited until Franco went back to his own office to knock on Syaoran's door. He mentally ran over the lines Meilin had given him.

"Come in." Syaoran said when the knock sounded on his door.

"Um, Mr. Li, I just wanted you to review your stock options so I can get back to the bank." He placed a thin stack of papers on Syaoran's desk.

While Syaoran picked up the first and began to read, Mortimer attempted to seem inconspicuous and unnoticable while asking a question. "So, um, has Sakura asked you to the wedding yet?"

Syaoran looked up and tried to be patient, though it wasn't his strongest suit. "Wedding?" he remembered Sakura's black-haired friend. "No, she hasn't.". Wait a minute. "How did you know about the wedding? Better yet, how did you even know Sakura?!" He dropped the papers and gave Mortimer his attention, waiting for a satisfactory explanation.

"Didn't she tell you? I just dumped her... recently." Mortimer didn't think it would be wise to tell Syaoran the exact date.

Syaoran frowned. Not a satisfactory explanation. 'Not my business what she did before me, anyway.', he thought. He tried to convince himself of it.

"Anyway, if you ever see her again, I'd really appreciate it if you told her that I'm sorry I couldn't go to Tomoyo's wedding. Thanks. Just drop a line when you're done with the stock options, Mr. Li.". Now that he'd dropped the seeds of doubt, he was certain he'd have Sakura back, and maybe even a bit of Meilin. God, that girl was hot.

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it! Cheers.


	8. His Way

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

His Way

Sakura loved Fridays. Once work ended on a Friday, the weekend had already started for her. She slammed into her apartment and dumped the paperwork on a table. She had no intention of even starting it until Sunday evening. Thinking that something hot and spicy would help kick off the weekend perfectly, she swung open the refridgerator door, fully intending to cook herself up a bowl of chilli, then remembered that she'd forgone grocery shopping on Sunday in lieu of going for that blasted picnic with Syaoran. She allowed herself a small smile as she picked up the phone to call Antonello.

Syaoran had been staring into space glumly when Antonello picked up the phone. "Of course, my dear. I pick something hot for you, yes? It will see you soon with Antonello's blessings. Yes. Arrivederci, Sakura." Antonello put down the phone and faced Syaoran, who had heard every word. "It was Sakura." he said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, I know." Syaoran continued to focus somberly at a spot on the wall.

Antonello waited, then said, "So you going to take it to her?"

"No." Syaoran answered quickly. He still had to think about their situation.

But they were friends, so it should be okay. "Yes."

She didn't tell him about Mortimer. "No.". Wait a minute, she didn't know about Mortimer! Or the bet for that matter. And the wedding?

Antonello sighed and said, "Nevermind. I will ask Jamie to do it. Jamie! Come out here!" he shouted toward the kitchen, knowing full well he'd already sent all the staff home.

"I'll do it. I'll take it." Syaoran snatched the packet off the table the moment it was placed there and strode out the door, leaving a beaming Antonello in his wake.

Sakura grabbed her purse the moment the doorbell rang. Digging inside it for her wallet, she unlocked the door then nudged it open with her back. "How much will that be-" she stopped as she came face to face with Syaoran. Her purse nearly dropped from her limp fingers.

He cocked a brow. "I could have been someone else, you know. You could have been killed.".

She couldn't stop the grin from sneaking across her face, and gave into it wholeheartedly. "Now that the first ten seconds have established that you're not some hired assassin come to eliminate me, let's eat already. I'm starving." she left him at the door and went to sit down at the rectangular dining table.

Syaoran straightened from the doorframe and walked over to sit in front of her. "My employee, Mortimer, asked about your friend's wedding today." he asked casually, concentrating all his attention on the unwrapping of the plastic bag.

"You know someone named Mortimer too?! I know - used to know someone named Mortimer. He was the biggest pig on the face of the - how did your Mortimer know about Tomoyo's wedding? Unless he's my Mortimer!" Sakura's thought processes jumbled over each other until she came to the final conclusion. "Mortimer Davis works for you?!" her hand flew to her mouth. "God, it really is a small world. I thought when I saw him with you the night he dumped me that you just happened to know each other, or met or something.".

So she didn't know about Mortimer. And Mortimer had dumped her the night he practically forced Syaoran to make that bet. Which meant Mortimer was fired, as of Monday morning. Remembering about the bet, Syaoran began to feel slightly uncomfortable.

Sakura, oblivious, began talking with her mouth full. "So, since you already know about Tomoyo's - you know, that girl with the long black hair I was with at Teasers - wedding, I was wondering if you would go with me. I mean, Tomoyo has been bugging me for weeks to find a date, and since we're friends..." she chanced a glance at him from under her lashes. Syaoran looked positively put out. "You don't absolutely have to. I can go alone. I-"

"Of course I'll take you." Syaoran broke in, then asked again, as casually as he knew how, "So... did you see Mortimer at all since you two separated?". He started on his chilli with vigour.

"We didn't separate; the pig dumped me! And you know what? He came here the first night you delivered for Antonello. After he left I called Antonello. He wanted to get back together for some reason. " Sakura poked bad temperedly at her own chilli, leaving Syaoran to stew in his own anger.

Syaoran suddenly felt the inane urge to do more than fire Mortimer, the bastard. He wanted to beat him to within an inch of his miserable life. "You did tell him no, right?" he couldn't prevent himself from asking.

"Who do you think I am? Of course I told him no! I told him he had been a waste of my time. Why? Hes just your employee."

'Not anymore.', Syaoran thought. "How would I know how you'd react to him? If you were foolish enough to let him in-"

"I didn't let him in! I'm not stupid, okay? Get off my back!" Sakura stood up abrubtly. Syaoran rose slowly until she had to tilt her head up to keep eye contact over the narrow table. They stood glaring at each other across chilli and hot sauce.

Slowly, achingly slowly, they inched closer until their lips met. Syaoran quickly came round the table until he had her in his arms. He settled them around her waist and held her tightly to him. Sakura's hands clutched and twisted the cloth covering his shoulders, then eventually encircled his neck as he angled his mouth to devour hers. Tongue slid erotically against tongue and Sakura began to find it hard to keep standing. Her legs were wobbling. If he weren't holding her pressed against him so tightly, she would surely slide to the floor.

Syaoran could barely think straight. The vague frightening thought that he would never be able to get enough of her crossed his mind, but he dismissed it and instead crushed his mouth down hard on hers.

At last the pressure eased and he held her comfortably in the circle of his arms. One arm went up to span her back and cup her neck, keeping her an inch from him. She made no effort to move away. Her eyes opened, revealing vulnerability and an emotion he'd never seen before.

"I don't think I can do this friends thing.", he whispered, staring into her eyes. "Let's do this my way."

Sakura trembled slightly. " You - your way?" her fingers went back to digging holes in his sleeves.

"Yes, my way." he closed the gap and took her mouth again.

Forgoing inhibition and pride, Sakura wrapped her arms around him and let him take her away.

Thanks for reading. I don't know how many chapters there will be, but I know how the story will go, so now worries, there IS a plot.


	9. Problems

Disclaimer: I don't own these people.

Problems

Sakura sat on her decade-old maroon couch in her living room, long, shorts-clad legs drawn up beneath her, thinking. What exactly had Syaoran meant when he'd said, 'his way'?

It was Saturday morning. She had spent the whole night tossing and turning after Syaoran had left with a kiss and a promise. She'd hoped to God that he's spent almost as sleepless a night as she had when she finally gave up and went out of her room to brood on the couch at 7 am that morning.

She wasn't a fool, she was a practical, independent twenty-first century woman. Of course she hadn't expected him to call between last night and this morning! Still, she checked her answering machine one last time.

During the days when the bridal shop was just starting out, she'd stayed up late into the morning for weeks on end, trying to keep their books in the black. She was used to it, the tiredness. It didn't make her any less cranky, though.

Now she was cranky, just a little bit tired, and hungry at 9 in the morning. Well, at least she could take care of something. She glanced down at her shorts and simple T-shirt. Ah, she didn't think Antonello would really mind all that much.

She grabbed her purse and slammed out of the apartment.

Syaoran had been working since yesterday. Once he'd left Sakura's apartment, he'd gotten a call from Franco, telling him to rush down to the office.

"What?! It's 10!" Syaoran had held the phone to his ear and strode across the street to his jag.

"It's Mr. Alcon. He's dead!" Franco's voice barked into his ear.

Syaoran stopped dead in the middle of the street. Poor Bob Alcon. He'd just made it past his 72nd birthday and 40th year with the company before the cancer had claimed him. Syaoran's dad, Syaoran Li the First, had always said that Bob Alcon had made the best damn accountant New York had ever seen. With a mind like a calculator and a heart of gold, he'd worked the accountancy department with an attitude akin to that of a general putting troops to battle.

He'd been a mentor to Syaoran the First, as well as Syaoran the Second, and now he was dead, having fought lung cancer for 15 long, hard years.

Syaoran accepted the news with closed eyes and a sinking heart.

"I'll be right there.".

Syaoran woke up from pleasant dreams of Sakura with a crick in his back from the comfortable-yet-not-quite-a-bed couch in his office. He'd worked until 4 am that morning, writing press releases and arranging the funeral, something he had insisted on doing. Bon Alcon deserved all the memorials he could get.

Now the accountancy department needed a new head accountant. Syaoran allowed himself one last lust-and-something-else-filled thought of Sakura then got back to work.

Sakura had charmed Antonello into a 3-course breakfast by 10, and considered it good work, all in all. Sitting by herself in the same private booth that she'd shared with Syaoran the last time, she nibbled on sausages and thought of him. It was one day less than two weeks to the wedding. She's successfuly gotten a date, had her dress, Tomoyo was happy, the store was doing well, and she'd been fed.

Why did she still feel there was something missing?

When the door gave a little tinkle, Sakura whipped around, thinking that she had someone conjured Syaoran up from her thoughts. Again. To her utter shock and chagrin, Mortimer walked through the door with none other than the exotic-looking woman with the glinting red eyes she'd seen at the bar with Syaoran the first time.

Sakura had been sitting back facing the door again, so this time she scuttled as low in her seat as possible, hoping they didn't see her and - God forbid - invite themselves to join her for breakfast!

Too late. Mortimer had already caught a glimpse of her brown hair and green eyes when she'd glanced around.

"Sakura! Hey, Sakura!" Mortimer waved and told Antonello that he'd join her, so no need for a table. The sexy lady beside him found Sakura with her eyes and they seemed to sharpen on her, gleaming redder than ever. She smiled a feral grin. Sakura would have bet her own over-priced mules that the girl was wearing contacts, only about seventy percent of her gravity-defying body was god-given, and that the jet black hair had been dyed at least once. The knowledge went with the territory of the fashion business.

She sighed, straightened her back, set her face in a polite smile, and watched Mortimer and the girl shuffle into the seat opposite her.

"Hi Sakura. Thought that was you. This is Meilin. We're... together now." Mortimer watched Sakura's face carefully for the hurt and jealousy he had fully expected.

Sakura managed to control the laughter that threatened to burst out. Oh, the pig. He'd really thought she'd fall at his feet and beg him to take her back, didn't he? She could barely keep a straight face. The poor girl was welcome to him as far as Sakura was concerned.

"That's nice. I'm so happy for you." She bent her head and gulped down her coffee, desperately hiding a grin.

Meilin spoke up, her voice smooth and low, schooled to bring out the utmost sex her voicebox could possibly produce. "Mortimer and I are very, very happy, thank you, Sakura.". Mortimer beamed proudly beside her.

Sakura raised a fine eyebrow Tomoyo forced her to get shaped at least once a month. "That's real nice.", she drawled out lazily, knowing anybody with half a brain would understand the blatant sarcasm.

When Meilin's back snapped straight, Sakura concluded that at least the girl had half a brain, and nearly smiled. She really couldn't be bothered to participate in the immature animosity this couple were hell-bent on inducing. Meilin leaned forward with a smile as insincere and fake as her whole face.

"You know, Sakura, I used to go out with Syaoran, whom Mortimer tells me you're seeing now, and there are some things I think you should know about him."

Note: I apologise for taking so long. Please forgive me, people. I have no excuses. I'm dying with guilt is all I can say.


	10. Love And Waitressing

Disclaimer: I don't own these people.

Love And Waitressing

Sakura sat in her seat, staring into space long after Mortimer had shuffled back out of their seats with twin smirks on their faces.

She still remembered the triumphant, chin-up, thin-smiled look Meilin gave her when she dropped the bomb. Or what she'd thought was the bomb.

"Syaoran doesn't want marriage. There will never be a future with him, Sakura. Since you strike me as such a nice person," Sakura nearly snorted up her coffee, "I decided to give you a heads up before you start to... well, get serious.

"I think you've gotten the wrong idea. I'm only... how old are you? Are you ready for marriage, in your point of view?" Sakura didn't even know if she was meant to think straight at these kinds of times. Seemed like any rediculous answer she gave would just answer a rediculous question anyway.

"I'm only twenty-eight. Syaoran and I are - were, compatible in age. He's twenty-nine, as you probably know." Meilin grinned at her in a way that said she probably didn't."

"Well, you see Meilin. I'm only twenty-five, and I don't think I'm ready for marriage, unlike you. Thanks for telling me, though. I um... really appreciate it." as much as boogers in my coffee and gum on my shoes.

"Whatever. Oh, look at the time! Mortimer, darling, we really must go! I have a photoshoot at 11." she turned to tell Sakura, boasting in a tangible way. Anyone younger than her, even three years, was immediate competition.

As Mortimer and Meiling headed toward the door, Sakura couldn't prevent herself from shouting out, "I love your breasts, Meilin! Where did you get them?"

Meilin pivoted around at the door in a full blown rage, just as Mortimer ushered her out. He didn't want to create a scene just as the seeds of doubt had so successfully been planted, to his mind. Sakura would come back to him soon enough.

Sakura turned back around, chuckling. She'd never thought of marriage. She was too young. Did she want to get married? To Syaoran? No no, of course not. He didn't want marriage, anyway. He was a typical man, just as she'd pegged him at first glance. Charming as spit and afraid of commitment. And she still had lots of time before her mother came after her asking for grandbabies, anyway. She didn't want to get married. Sure she didn't.

Sakura let her head fall into her hands and groaned. She couldn't believe she was falling in love. With Syaoran.

Syaoran turned off his computer at noon. He'd gone without breakfast, and the last meal he had was bringing back delicious memories of Sakura. He was hungry, and it was becoming a familiar feeling that not all of it was for food.

He picked up his phone and dialed Sakura's number. After four rings he heard the beginnings of her voicemail message.

"Hi, this is Sakura Kinomoto. Obviously, you've caught me at a bad time. Give me your name and number and I'll get back to you - Tomoyo! That button's for - don't press the button! Don't press the damn button! Press it and I swear I'll - ". Syaoran was caught between amusement and annoyance. She was so adorable, but where the hell was she? He wanted to have lunch with her, damnit! He also wanted to hear her voice again. So, cursing himself every step of the way, he called her number again, and listened to the message, letting her voice wrap around him, calming him in his stress about Bob's death.

Two more guilty calls later, and he'd started for Antonello's.

Sakura had realised that the lunch hour was very busy for Antonello, and apparently, good old Jamie had come down with the flu that day. Antonello was hopelessly shorthanded. She's gotten out of her seat to offer it to another family of three who'd come by for a meal.

Seeing the other two waiters, Antonello's sons, Mario and Luigi, occupied with other customers, Sakura took one look at the baby boy gurgling happily in his mother's lap and snatched her napkin from the table, her pen she always kept in her pocket, and began to take orders.

When she slapped the napkin in front of Antonello at the counter seconds later, the aging Italian gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek and proceeded to fill the order up. Taking a pad from the counter, she went to the door and ushered new customers to empty seats, taking their orders efficiently as she went along. She began to enjoy herself, and the harmless flirting the twenty-year-old Mario kept sending her way.

She was smiling from the latest smack on the head Antonello had given his son, saying "Stop with the winking at Sakura, you fool, and get to work!", and had turned once more to the front door, coming face to face with Syaoran.

Syaoran glanced down at her. She was wearing shorts that made her legs go on till forever, and a classy black apron that was the uniform for the waiters and waitresses at Antonello's. There was flour in her hair, a pen balanced on her ear, and another healthy dusting of flour on her nose and cheeks. She looked wonderful.

In order to cover his reaction, Syaoran clapped an arm around her shoulders and held her possessively to his side. "So this is what you do in your spare time, eh? Waitress and flirt with people who are practically my brothers?" He grinned into her face, too happy at seeing her to think of anything else.

"Mario!" she huffed in the man's direction, and was replied with an innocent smile and a shrug. Then to Syaoran, "It would be nice if you were a little bit jealous, you know. This does no good for my self-esteem."

Syaoran shrugged himself, and, circling her waist, gave her a look that said, 'you asked for it' and swept her into a kiss.

He barely stopped himself before he moaned like a sissy. Her lips were as soft as he'd remembered, her tongue as soft and languid. As their mouths moved in an aching, almost desperate dance, she clung to him and relished the feel of his arms around her. This was what she imagined paradise would be, if there was such a thing. Fifteen hours were, apparently, too long to be without each other.

Almost panting, he slowly, inch by shuddering inch, released her from his death grip. Sakura became aware of a deathly silence around her. The patrons of the restaurant were all staring at them, open-mouthed. Then, one by one, people began to clap. 'Just like in the movies.', Sakura thought dizzily. Apparently, the customers who came to enjoy Antonello's food were all romantics. Antonello himself beamed like a proud father at them, soaking in the mad applause that went on until Syaoran ushered Sakura into an empty booth.

Sakura was mildly surprised that there was an empty booth, with all the crowds they'd had that afternoon. She wondered if Antonello would have booted people out bodily if they hadn't been a booth available. She and Syaoran sat staring at each other, smiling slightly, unable to look away.

"Um... how've you been?" Sakura couldn't stand the loaded silence and thought only of self-preservation. Surely love was dangerous, if it aroused such monumental feelings inside her.

"You mean since I saw you yesterday? Fine I guess." Syaoran replied, grinning, reminding her of their picnic on the Sunday that already seemed so far away, content to just look for a while.

Sakura scowled good-naturedly.

"Oh, before I forget, I need an accountant. Do you know any?" Syaoran asked.

Sakura couldn't believe her ears. "I'm an accountant, Syaoran! What do you need one for, anyway?"

"Funny how I never knew that. My head accountant... passed away last night, and I need someone to manage the accounts, and basically the entire accounting department." Syaoran could barely keep his excitement under control. Sakura... everyday... where he could see her, touch her. If she agreed to take the job...

Note: Two chapters in one day is my compensation to ya'll.


	11. Silence And Pain

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Silence and Pain

"I could do it! I'm sort of freelance anyway. Tomoyo can survive if I'm not there twenty-four seven. I can do both companies!" Sakura nearly jumped at the chance of challenging herself with a large company. And Syaoran... she wouldn't need an excuse to see him anymore...

God, she really was pathetic. He was the love 'em and leave 'em kind of man. She couldn't trust him. Meilin's 'heads up' just confirmed her first impression of him. But she couldn't believe Meilin, of all people. Syaoran was good and kind and funny... and she couldn't deny it any longer.

"That's great. So I'll see you bright and early Monday morning, then? Eight o'clock."

Sakura's thought processes stopped short. Working for Syaoran... their relationship would inevitably change. He would be her boss, and couldn't be anyone else. She wondered if she dared to risk her heart. There was no help for it. It was already hanging out there, open to hurt and any pain he could inflict on it with a careless word or gesture. She wondered if he knew just how much he was in charge of now.

She'd take the job. Life was short.

"Eight o'clock." She smiled at him.

Later Syaoran would try to think back to when he'd ever been so... at peace with himself. After they'd had a short lunch, one Sakura was overdue for since she'd been waitressing all through lunchtime, they'd played tourist and gone to visit the Statue Of Liberty, strolling hand in hand around New York Harbour, blocking out the doubts that had immediately begun to creep in about work on Monday. Syaoran bought them both ice cream cones, both chocolate.

The weather looked like a blessing, the sky so blue it hurt their eyes and the sun so soft in the late afternoon that it was almost unnatural. Almost. Neither of them could have imagined a better day.

Late evening eased into the night on a long breath, and soon Syaoran and Sakura was back at Antonello's for dinner.

Sitting back at their booth, they ate their meals in companionable silence. Syaoran took Sakura's moans and sighs over her pasta with heroic and uncomfortable tolerance, and soon they were at her front door. The day seemed to passed by far too quickly, and the magic was nearly gone. What Monday would be like was weighing on both their minds, but both stubbornly refused to give up the opportunity to see each other once the weekend was over. Excuses were weak things that neither could abide. Good, solid reasons were the way to go.

However, once Syaoran let go of Sakura's hand at the door, he was suddenly loathe to leave her. Big surprise there.

He leaned against the wall next to her door, waiting for her to leave him again. He didn't want to go inside for some reason, something about the bedroom encouraging him to go too fast for both of them.

They wouldn't see each other tomorrow, they both knew it, and somehow, both wanted the time apart. To think. Something was going on. Something big and undeniable.

Suddenly, Sakura slid down the front of her door and sat with a small thump on the concrete. Syaoran looked down at her, and she turned her face up toward his, unsmiling. Her knees close to her chest, she help up a hand to him.

Syaoran grasped her small hand in his and sat down beside her wordlessly. Somehow, the moment was too... much... for words. Tucking her arm under his, they sat together on the floor in front of her door, the barrier that suddenly seemed so much more impenetrable than it had been just yesterday.

Sakura stretched out her legs and tangled them with his. Her body angled to him, she put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The quiet affection and regret was more palpable than any block of solid wood.

It was then he realised that he loved her.

Sunday came and went in a blur of day and night. When they finally saw each other again on Monday, their relief was a tangible thing. At last, they both seemed to say, you're here with me again.

"Sakura, Franco Buisette, the Vice President of Li Corporations. Franco, this is Sakura, our new Head Accountant." Syaoran stood between them like a referee at a boxing match, but these two weren't fated to be enemies.

"Sakura darling! Let me show you around, my dear girl!" Franco laid a friendly hand on her shoulder and proceeded to guide her around The Tower, the name they'd given to the forty-storey skyscraper Li Corporations had taken as their head offices. Sakura giggled and followed, giving Syaoran one last, cheeky grin over one shoulder.

Syaoran set his teeth and reminded himself to mention to Franco that Sakura was off-limits. At least the man hadn't mentioned anything about the stupid bets Mortimer had made with him the day he'd met Sakura. He didn't think would necessarily come off very well.

Syaoran, as the President and thus head honcho of the entire establishment, had his offices, in the plural, on the very top level of The Tower. Accountancy was two levels down. Syaoran was seriously considering moving the entire staff up to the top level, just so... well, Sakura of course.

Sakura had just gotten over seeing Syaoran in a business suit again. Ever since that first Friday, she hadn't seen Syaoran in a business suit, especially one that just wrapped him up beautifully like a present at Christmas. She was had been trying hard for the first hour not to just grab him by the starched lapels and have her wicked way with him. She didn't think his other employees would approve of her seducing the big boss. She counted herself lucky that Syaoran was on a whole 'nother level of the building and thus putting her far away from temptation.

It was 10 am in the morning. Work had started and Sakura was crunching numbers as diligently as thinking of Syaoran would allow. It seemed it was all she did these days. Think of Syaoran.

She was determined not to be any less competent than the beloved Bob Alcon had been, determined to prove herself as more than Syaoran's friend, someone deserving to be offered the job.

She wondered if Syaoran would admit to his company that he was having some kind of relationship with her, or if he'd prefer to hide it, to keep the appearances of a boss. A boss did not have relationships with his employees. That only happened in lurid stories, or amature porn. She promised herself she would not be hurt if he'd prefer to hide it. She didn't even know if what they had was considered a relationship, anyway. A kiss here and there, and feelings only on one side... she would not, absolutely would not, be hurt.

But there was no help for it, when he left immediately after work with a sorry look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Sakura, you do understand, don't you? It was my dad's company, and I can't afford to set a bad example. Do you want to walk a little bit down the road and then I pick you up at the crossroads?" The painfully apologetic look on his face told her just how bad he felt, but he was a responsible person, and so was she.

"No thanks," she said hollowly, "I'll take a cab home."

And so, it began, and everyday she hurt a little bit more.

Note: Continuing my penance...


	12. Truth Revealed

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Truth Revealed

Sakura sat at home Thursday night, trying to talk herself out of quiting the job, in vain. When it came down to it, she loved Syaoran too much to hinder his success by just being there, and she didn't think she could take the pain, or be more humiliated. She could accept, even understand, his reasons, but that didn't change the heart. The workload was too much for her too, she soothed herself.

She hadn't gone to a single bar since Monday. After work at The Tower, she'd had to rush back to Tomoyo's store to do the accounts there, too, and she often went home at nearly midnight. Thinking of Syaoran hadn't helped her work nor her speed much either, and it all had to stop. She would quit, and she and Syaoran could go back to their previous relationship, their not-so-platonic-friendship. Things would be alright again. She had to believe that.

Syaoran was struggling with overwhelming guilt. He'd stayed at the office until after Sakura had gone home, so he didn't have to go through the same thing as he had on Monday. He wondered if it was killing her as much as it was him. After work, he couldn't even get hold of her to make amends because she never seemed to be home. Now, being a man's man, he couldn't even admit it to himself, but he missed her so much he could barely breathe. He wanted to watch her eat, he wanted to touch her hair, he just wanted to be near her, if he couldn't have anything else. She'd avoided him almost studiously since Monday, and after work she seemed to disappear.

He decided to confront her and apologise outright tomorrow, on the last day of the week. He'd admit to the company that they were together, then they could spend the weekend making up. The whole weekend. His horrible mood began to improve.

Unknown to the both of them, Meilin and Mortimer, in another part of the city, were plotting another plan, one that would actually work, and would take place tomorrow, on Friday. Everything was going to come to a head. The end was edging closer.

Friday morning. Sakura had penned her resignation the night before, and had told her secretary what she intended to do come 11 o'clock, just so she couldn't back out at the last minute. She thought that three hours would definitely be enough to wrap up all her work, and if Syaoran required two weeks notice, well, she thought she could handle it.

The clock finally struck eleven, and Sakura wiped her clammy hands unprofessionally on her skirt and straightened her papers one final time, bolstering herself for the trip she was about to make upstairs.

If she had only been five minutes earlier.

Meilin strode through her unlocked door with Cindy, Sakura's secretary, wringing her hands behind her. Practically tottering on four-inch high heels, Meilin aimed an insincere smile at Sakura and waved her hands in dismissal at the hovering Cindy.

Sakura decided to play the diplomat and see what Meilin wanted this time. "Thanks, Cindy. I'll take it from here. How can I help you, Meilin?"

"Sakura darling," Meilin purred once the door closed. "I was just looking for Mortimer. Do you know where he is?"

Sakura cocked an eyebrow and very nearly rolled her eyes. "Mortimer doesn't work here anymore. He was fired on Monday. And even if he did, he would be in Marketing, which isn't on this floor, Meilin." she said with what she considered admirable patience. Here she was, about to change her life forever, and this insecure fruitcake on heels was trying to get under her skin! Her temper slowly started to rise.

"Whatever." Meilin brushed the news aside like she knew exactly what had happened, and Sakura narrowed her eyes. " I just wanted to tell you, you poor thing, something I found out about the night you and Syaoran met. As you probably know, I see you as a friend, being Mortimer's ex-girlfriend and all."

Sakura couldn't help it; her eyes rolled of their own accord.

"That night, before I met up with Syaoran and his work buddies at The Dewberry, where he picked you up, Mortimer made a bet with Syaoran.". She paused for dramatic effect, her glinting, triumphant eyes belying the concern on her face. She'd finally realised what would break the two up, and not a moment too soon.

Sakura stiffened imperceptibly, and her heart clenched in her chest.

Syaoran was already just outside Sakura's office door. Cindy had duly been given a coffee break, and had been respectfully ushered to the cafe on the other side of the street. Syaoran wanted no witnesses for the grovelling he was about to do.

He was practicing. "Sakura, I'm sorry, please forgive me, I never meant to hurt you- no no no. Too sappy." he cleared his throat. "Sakura, this thing between us, I'm ready to open it up to the company, so I'm sorry- no no. Too insincere!" he was getting desperate. Then he decided to just wing it. This was Sakura, after all. She'd take him back, no questions asked, wouldn't she?

Syaoran turned the knob, pushed the door open silently, and stood framed in the doorway, his heart grinding to a halt. He was pretty sure it had stopped beating altogether.

Meilin was just finishing her speech, and Sakura had turned the colour of chalk. "... to sleep with you in three weeks. One grand, Sakura! Mortimer-" she spotted Syaoran, and could barely contain her glee. She credited being able to suppress the grin she so wanted to set free to her hundreds of acting lessons she had forced her mother to pay for. The whole scene had turned out better that she could ever have imagined, having Syaoran there whle she broke Sakura's heart oh so innocently, and twisted it under her two-hundred-dollar heels.

"Oops! Oh dear. Syaoran darling, there you are! I have simply got to dash, Syaoran, Sakura. Things to do, places to go, people to see, you know! I'll just leave you two alone now, shall I?". Allowing herself a small smile, she carefully sidled past the frozen Syaoran and made her escape, only letting the fully-satisfied laugh come in the elevator on the way down.

Carefully, as if one wrong move would shatter her brittle bones, Sakura looked up at Syaoran, who had opened his mouth, trying to explain. She had wanted to trust him, but one look at the guilt showing plainly in his eyes, and she knew the truth. She told herself to block out the pain first, and she would only allow herself to cry later, when she was far away from this godforsaken office. And him.

With stone-cold, steady fingers, she tossed the resignation letter on top of the stack of papers she had so diligently straightened in her nervousness earlier, grabbed her purse and shoved past Syaoran, out the door.

"Sakura! Wait- it's not like that! I-" Syaoran finally had the presence of mind to go after her, but she was already in the elevator, jamming the close button with one trembling finger.

As the doors closed in his face, Syaoran thumped spiritedly on them and Sakura whispered, "Goodbye, Syaoran. I loved you."

Hugging herself tight as if to keep the overwhelming pain from engulfing her completely, she swayed to and fro and began to cry.

Note: I realised that reviews are addictive. Thanks to all of my reviewers!


	13. Sick All Over

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Sick All Over

Syaoran had never considered himself a particularly violent person. Sure, a good sock in the jaw never hurt anyone, but as he stood back beside Sakura's desk after she had long gone, holding her resignation letter lightly in his hand as if he might exert too much pressure and destroy the last thing Sakura had left him, he had to actively tamper the need to actually kill someone. He didn't think he could contemplate much further beyond the short message in front of his eyes. Maybe if he concentrated really hard, he could pretend that was all they had; a professional relationship.

'I hereby tender my resignation with due effect on...' the date didn't matter. He couldn't believe on the day he had come to make amends, she was making plans to leave him. He tossed the paper on the table, then, very carefully, sat down in her chair like an old man.

What had he done wrong, really? He knew he hadn't made the bet. Franco had made the bet. Mortimer had made the bet. Not him. He'd thought Mortimer was drunk, damnit, and now the bastard had come back to haunt him, come back to... take Sakura away. Then he guiltily remembered the two bets he'd made, one with Franco and the other with Mortimer, to take Sakura out each time. But, God, did she think he would ever bet on sex with a woman?

Did he really want a woman who didn't trust him? Honestly, Sakura had just walked out without even giving him a chance to explain! A little voice in his head asked him how he had been planning to explain the bets he had made instead. He shook it off. Sakura just needed time to calm down, that's all. Just like a woman, really, jumping to conclusions. After she'd had her little hissy fit, he'd go over to her apartment with flowers and they'd actually start a proper relationship this time. He had it all planned out. Sakura just needed some time to simmer down, he was sure.

Syaoran reached up absently and rubbed a sudden ache in his chest.

Sakura had been able to stopper up her tears by the time she reached the lobby. Really, she'd had 38 floors of time, so it hadn't been that hard.

Waiting for a cab in front of the skyscraper, she looked up toward the fortieth floor, wondering if he was looking down at her, wondering if she'd ever see him again, even as she cursed herself for wanting to. She should seriously give thought to putting off men for the time being. They weren't coming off very well. One more tear managed to squeeze itself past her tightly- shut eyelids before she ducked her head into a cab. No more crying till she got safely home, she promised herself. Even so, she laid her head against the window and closed her eyes, blocking herself from the world. There was already enough pain inside her.

Letting herself into her apartment, she deliberately passed her dining table without a glance, remembering despite herself how Syaoran had sat there with her and ate Antonello's chicken. Knowing now what he'd wanted all the time... she couldn't go to Antonello's anymore. No, she wouldn't be able to take it.

Changing into a huge T-shirt and her favorite, decade-old shorts, she tucked her emergency-tub-of-ice-cream-just-for-days-like-this under her arm and settled herself in front of the television for what she decided would be a 6 hour-long pity fest. The clock struck twelve. Sakura found it funny how one of the biggest, monumental moments of her life had taken place within... ten minutes really. She would have ice cream for lunch.

But she was determined to get on with her life. Syaoran was not going to spoil her for life's pleasures. That wasn't the Sakura she knew! Plunking the tub of chocolate ice cream on the coffee table before a re-run of The Godfather on TV, she grabbed the cordless phone off it's cradle and deliberately dialled Tomoyo's number at work.

"Tomoyo!" Sakura nearly shouted before she caught herself. "I'm free today. Want to go to The Grey Lagoon? We didn't get to the last time. It's your last week as a free woman, you know. You can consider this your pre-bridal shower!" Sakura wheedled.

"Okay, okay, Sakura! Haven't seen you at all this week, anyway. You always go to the shop after it's closed to do the accounts, all because of your new job! You mustn't work too hard, you know, Sakura." Tomoyo's concern flowed across the telephone lines, soothing Sakura.

"I love you, Tomoyo. I'll see you at... what, seven? We could have dinner!"

"Dinner sounds good. We can meet at the shop then. Right after closing, 'kay? And you know I love you too. Bye Sakura!"

Placing the phone carefully back onto it's cradle, Sakura made a big production of finding the correct pillow to hug while watching The Godfather. Then, once she'd gotten the biggest, softest she had in stock on the couch, she sat very still staring at the screen.

Seconds later, she lowered her head slowly onto the pillow and sobbed her heart out.

That evening, Sakura picked Tomoyo up and they went to have dinner at The Grey Lagoon, the restaurant-with-a-bar on Gingham Road. Sitting at a corner booth, Sakura immediately launched into the speech she had prepared.

"And that's why I'm not taking anyone to your wedding. I'm so sorry, Tomoyo, to spoil your plans, but I don't think I can find anyone on such short-"

"He did that to you?! That sonofa-" Tomoyo had already stood up in full outrage, her wedding forgotten. Sakura grabbed her arm. Usually, Tomoyo was the quiet one, while Sakura had always been the one to fight, but when her loved ones were threatened, Tomoyo turned into an amazon.

"Tomoyo, leave it. He's not worth it, and besides. I've cried enough over him. I don't want to have to see him ever again. At least he lost the bet! Haha." Sakura laughed weakly, and Tomoyo immediately sank down next to her and hugged her, fully realising the depth of the situation.

"Sakura," Tomoyo stroked her hair softly. "You never cry. Do you love him?" Sakura took a deep breath where her face was buried against Tomoyo's shoulder and nodded slowly.

"Oh, poor baby. You know what?" Tomoyo held Sakura firmly in front of her. "We're going to get nice and drunk tonight. I'll get Eriol to pick us up afterward."

Three hours later saw the girls weaving, perching precariously on their bar stools, nearly unable to see straight. Sakura was laughing at something, she didn't really know what. She swivelled dangerously around and pinned a wildly giggling Tomoyo with solemn eyes.

"You know what, Tomoyo? I love you."

"Oh that's nice, Sakura, I love you t-"

"And I love Syaoran," Sakura pushed the table and swivelled back around to her other side, where an elderly man sat. "And I even love you too!". She burst into laughter and gave the blushing regular a smacking kiss on the mouth. "I love everyone!"

She slumped onto the bar counter in a dead faint.

Sakura woke to find Tomoyo leaning over her. It was the same night, and Tomoyo squinted at her out of impaired eyes. "Sakura? You alive there honey?"

Sakura lurched around, realising she was on the pavement, grabbing hold of the pant leg of a man in a business suit. Syaoran, her mind breathed with a sigh. He'd come for her after all.

"Tomoyo darling, we'd better get the both of you home, before you mess up your lovely dresses." Eriol. It was Tomoyo's Eriol. Syaoran hadn't come. He wouldn't ever, either. Eriol hoisted Tomoyo first into the back seat of his red Chevrolet, then Sakura, carrying them like drunk damsels-in-distress.

Opening the door a second later, Sakura just managed to get her head far enough out the opening to throw up in the gutter.

Note: Number 13. Enjoy!


	14. Elopement

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Elopement

Syaoran couldn't eat. He hadn't slept properly in days. It was Monday morning. He'd suffered through the weekend, unable to go through the normal actions he usually went through. All he could think about was how Sakura had looked when he'd first brought her to Antonello's , when she'd grinned at him delivering Antonello's food, when she'd sat silently next to him in front of her door that last night. He wished he'd done more to... memorise her face... to absorb the throaty sound of her voice. He wished she was there with him right now.

He didn't know how he'd gotten through that endless Friday. How could he go to Antonello's when he'd remember how she'd sat opposite him in what he had come to think of as their booth? He'd tried walking off the strange feeling inside him, but the moment his legs took him to Central Park, where memories of Sakura on a checkered red blanket bombarded him, he'd had to turn right around and go home.

His house suddenly felt entirely too empty. He thought of Sakura's apartment, cluttered with stuff, her dining table, so small their knees could touch, her collection of porcelain Disney dolls.

He didn't think he could even work. How could he when she'd been there just on Friday, killing him inside with those big green eyes? This was the limit. He was going to make her listen, toss her over his shoulder like some caveman if it came to that, but he'd force her to listen to reason. Surely she wouldn't begrudge him an explanation?!

He slammed his car door as he got in, and screeched to a stop in front of her apartment building. Letting his annoyance carry him up the front stairs, he violently jammed the button for the intercom, only to stand there fuming when he realised she wasn't home. Honestly, how could she have the nerve to not be home when he wanted a confrontation? His guilt was transforming into a much more comfortable anger in unreasonable proportions.

Slamming back into the jag, he drove to work.

Sakura was sitting in the back room of the bridal shop, listening to Tomoyo talk about hems and laces with half an ear. Her work only truly began at the end of the working day, when she had to tabulate all the sales figures and all the dresses sold. She sat, staring into space, as Tomoyo went on about this difficult customer and that stupid one, and was interrupted by a present one at the door.

Sakura, alone in the small back room, allowed herself one moment to think about Syaoran. One moment to remember how happy she had been with him, then pushed the moment aside and went out to help Tomoyo. Might as well put her sadness into physical energy and work, work, work.

After sending the customer off, happy as a clam with a new dress, Tomoyo sat down and sighed heavily. Sakura, knowing the signs, pushed aside her own misery and went to her, ready to comfort.

"Scared about the wedding, Tomoyo?" Sakura put her arm around Tomoyo. Had Tomoyo been getting thinner these days? The stress that came with organizing the 'the perfect wedding' that she so wanted was obviously weighing on her mind.

Tomoyo nodded, forlorn. "Nothing seems to be going right, Sakura. It hadn't been for days, but I just didn't want to except it. The flowers may be late, the cake may not be baked in time either, I can't get ushers, don't even want to think of the caterers I let my mother deal with! I've been planning this day ever since I was nine! And it's going all wrong!" Sakura was shocked. Guilt rushed in to fill the place of the ever-present pain for the first time in days. What kind of a friend was she not to pay attention to Tomoyo's difficulties? She decided to apply herself to solving the problem.

"Tomoyo, you know Eriol would have married you in a side chapel in Las Vegas, with cheap booze and showgirls as witnesses. All he wants to do is be with you, and he doesn't really care how you come to him." Sakura prayed that Tomoyo's mother wouldn't kill her when she found out what she was trying to make Tomoyo do.

At the same time, she was forcibly reminded of Syaoran's monumental insincerity. She quickly concentrated hard on Tomoyo. She thought of Syaoran far too much these days, and now was even less the appropriate time than usual.

Tomoyo began to stutter, thinking about what Sakura had inadvertently suggested. "But the guests... the church... the food... my mother!" Sakura started to think twice about the solution she'd thought of, but Tomoyo suddenly spoke up.

"I think you're right, Sakura. You don't have a date to my wedding, anyway, and if my dear Sakura won't be enjoying herself, and I won't be enjoying myself, then Eriol and I... we'll just have to elope then!"

Sakura's heart thudded to a stop. "What?! No! I meant more along the lines of a smaller wedding! A much smaller wedding, with just witnesses, or less guests, or whatever, but elopement is... much bigger, Tomoyo! Your mom will slaughter me!"

Tomoyo shook her head firmly, as if coming to a decision already. Sakura raised both hands in front of herself, palms up, as if trying to control this new brainstorm, or beat it into submission so it wouldn't cause so much trouble.

"No, Sakura. Don't you see? Eriol and I... this is perfect for us! My mom can hold a reception celebrating my elopement with all the guests invited to the wedding, and Eriol and I can slip away to our honeymoon destination on earlier tickets! It's a wonderful idea! My mother is the one who loves throwing parties, anyway."

Tomoyo suddenly whipped out her cellphone, the one she'd got more for company purposes, and began to dial what Sakura already knew was Eriol's number, while Sakura stood, almost desperately trying to calculate the possible repercussions. It seemed that the wedding, which had been the focus of the week and all her dating, didn't appear to be such a big deal after all.

Sakura went back into the back room absently, to give Tomoyo some privacy, and privately hoped that Eriol wouldn't give too much of a fight. It would only work to his disadvantage once Tomoyo was on a roll like this. Sakura loved the guy, and didn't want him to get too beaten up.

When Tomoyo came into the back room beaming, Sakura guessed that the man either knew what was good for him, or loved Tomoyo so much he'd give her anything. Something inside her squeezed with envy at their love, and she felt more happy at that moment for the both of them than she ever had before.

Then Tomoyo had to drop the bomb.

"Eriol agrees wholeheartedly! He knew that I was getting overwhelmed with the planning, and he said that if I didn't suggest something, he would have taken me away anyway! Oh, how I love him!" Tomoyo sighed blissfully, then said. "And we both want you to come with us as a witness, Sakura! You're coming with us to Paris on Friday!"

Note: Number 14. Just a note, for those who are interested, I've got an idea for a next story already, so stay tuned! Enjoy.


	15. Seeing

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Seeing

Wednesday. Sakura tossed clothes haphazardly into a bag and finally dropped bad-temperedly onto her bed. She couldn't believe Tomoyo just expected her to drop everything and go with her to Paris, with just 4 days notice! Friendship only went so far...

Sakura blew at her hair, and sighed. Friendship did go far, apparently. Luckily for Tomoyo, Sakura was willing to go, if it meant making her best friend happy. Involuntarily, her thoughts shifted to Syaoran again. It had been five days since she'd last seen him, and the loss was like an ache, spreading and practically alive with pain. Would he know that she had gone? It would just be three weeks, really. Would he care?

Slamming the suitcase shut, she dragged out the second one to be filled. He wasn't deserving, damnit, so she should cut her losses and move on already! A sharp splinter from the breaking-apart suitcase snagged her on the finger, and she sat with a gasp of pain. Shoving her hair out of her eyes again, she clutched the base of her index finger and squeezed the wound with all her might. Her eyes closed with the agony. How could such a small cut cause so much pain? She wished she had someone there with her, like Tomoyo had Eriol, like her mom had her dad, even like Meilin had Mortimer! Cursing herself for ten kinds of a fool, she let a tear get past her guard and track down her cheek. God, she hated crying. It accomplished nothing, yet women seemed to be so adept at it. She had never found it particularly amazing to be so capable at something which wasted time and tissues.

Pushing aside the misery that had seemed so much her companion these days, she got back to packing. She'd not allow anything to compromise Tomoyo's special day, least of all not herself.

Syaoran growled low in his throat, and his secretary, a young woman of twenty-three who worshipped him, scrambled away. He couldn't even summon up the energy to be sorry. His lack of sleep seemed to be only the least of his problems.

Where was Sakura now? For all their bumping into each other before, suddenly she was nowhere to be found. She hadn't gone to Antonello's, seemed to be away at wherever she worked during the day, and at night she was also never at home! Could the damned woman go to bars and eat out every single night? She was driving him crazy.

He almost wished the company had been suffering just so he could have some proof of his insane distraction. He must surely be mad, to think of only one woman day and night. He was positive that he at least deserved a chance to make things right. He wondered if normal men were usually made to suffer for so long by their wives. He wondered if she was worth it. Oh yes she was, but he'd be damned if he'd beg.

That was it. He was going to go to her apartment tomorrow after work ended and wait for her until she got home, When she worked for him, she always seemed to be used to that particular working hours, so he could only make an educated guess that wherever she was working, she kept the same hours. He'd make her listen to his apology, then he'd let her apologize for not trusting him, then they could go from there. It sounded like a good plan. Suddenly feeling so much better for a concrete strategy, Syaoran was finally able to work.

Tomoyo had let her take Thursday off to run some last minute errands. Her apartment needed to be house-sitted, and she pleaded the chore off of old Mrs. Burseberry across the hall. She was sure the old lady would watch the apartment for her, because firstly, Mrs. Burseberry always seemed to like Sakura, and secondly, the old hag never did anything but spy on people and their business out her windows anyway. Sakura was positive Mrs. Burseberry would make an excellent house-sitter.

Giving Mrs. Burseberry one last bright smile, Sakura walked back across the hall. There was a distinct scent of aniticipation in the air, as if something might happen that would just cap off the happiness of her best friend getting married. Sakura shrugged it off to wishful thinking. Nothing special was coming her way, and she'd better stop hurting herself with the hope.

Halfway across the city, Syaoran was hurtling his Jag down an empty tourist district during his lunch hour. Funny how there were no crowds that day, being a tourist district at one of the busiest times of the day. It brought back to mind the day when Sakura and him just happened to be sitting side by side in the same Chuck Norris revival, in a city with eight million people. What were the chances? He'd never quite believed in fate before Sakura, and now...

He suddenly jammed on the brakes and jerked to a stop right in front of a storefront window, displaying porcelain dolls of all shapes and kinds. The sign above the window read: 'Porcelain Pretties'. Syaoran stared at what had caught his eye. Framed by the glass window, right in the centre of the elaborate display containing at least thirty porcelain figures, was a perfect imitation of Simba, the lion from the Disney cartoon, The Lion King.

Almost afraid to blink in case it was an illusion, Syaoran got out of the Jag without taking his eyes off the doll. Pushing the door to the shop open, he barely registered the chime of the bells placed at the doorway. What did it mean? Had he been meant to find the very same doll that Sakura had lost years and years ago? Did he really want to look over his shoulder that very moment? He imagined that he'd find some ethereal being with the word 'fate' written on a placard hanging around his neck, grinning at him, no less.

Going straight to the counter, he told the roundtound woman there that he wanted the Simba doll in the window packaged, please, and did she have one in a hamburger shape?

He didn't want to go back to work after that. He wanted to see Sakura. He wanted her to forgive him, for them to go back to the way things were. No, not the way things were. That was too easy. He wanted to make it difficult for the both of them. No escaping this relationship this time. He wanted marriage. He wanted to seal things up so tight she could never get away from him ever again.

Pulling up in front ofher apartment for what seemed like the twentieth time in the past five days, Syaoran got slowly out of the car. Something told him Sakura was inside there today, waiting for him. He remembered suddenly that her friend's wedding was tomorrow, and reminded himself to ask to take her to that too. They could have a double wedding, for all he cared. He wanted her bound to him as quickly as was humanly possible.

Suddenly he couldn't get up the stairs fast enough. He jabbed the button on the intercom violently, holding the paper bag containing his peace offerings in one hand. Sakura's voice filled the box and seemed to wrap around him.

"Yes?"

Syaoran said the first thing that came to mind. "Your delivery."

"I didn't order anything. You must have made a mistake. My name's Sakura Kinomoto. Have you got that name on whatever delivery address you have there?"

Syaoran rolled his eyes. If someone had meant to rob her, they'd have robbed her blind by now; she was so naive sometimes. "Yes, it says Sakura Kinomoto here," he ran a hand through his hair, 'Miss." he added for good measure.

"Okay, then. Come on up." Syaoran made a mental note to tell her off for being so trusting. They were living in New York City, for God's sake! But all thought fled once she opened the door and he saw her again.

Note: Chapter 15 people! It's ending soon, but I'm working on my next one, so no worries.


	16. Confrontation

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Confrontation

Sakura had thought of a million and one possibilities for this final confrontation, all of which including her turning him away with his tail between his legs, presuming he had a tail in the first place, of course, the liar. None of those senarios included her wearing nothing but a very old, ragged, terry cloth robe over an even older sleep shirt worn thin by the years.

She wanted to slam the door in his face just so she could change and look her best, her most professional. She made herself stay holding the door open, the picture of detached hospitality. Other than that lapse at the office, she never wanted him to know just how much he'd affected her over the week.

He looked even more handsome than when she'd first seen him at The Dewberry that fateful night, but tired, more tired than she'd ever seen him even after a full day of work. She spotted a paper bag in his hand, and wondered if he'd brought her food from Antonello again, and would have let him in just for that. How she had missed Antonello and his delicious food.

Allowing Sakura her own appraisal, Syaoran took in her shapeless, mud-coloured robe, the collar of a frayed, grey T-shirt under it, her flyaway hair, her flushed cheeks and her bare feet. She look wonderful. The sheer awfulness of the past week sort of slid out of him as he ran his eyes from her unpainted toes to the top of her messy hair.

Sakura pasted a bright smile on her face and backed in to the apartment, opening the door wider, saying, "Come in, Syaoran."

Syaoran stepped in warily, suspicious but relieved at her cheerfulness. Maybe she'd already decided to forgive him. He placed the paper bag on her dining table as he passed it, wanting to explain first.

She ushered him to the soft couch, sitting dwon on an armchair across from him, the epitome of the perfect hostess. "Syaoran, I know why you've come," she started. "I think we need to clear the air too."

Oh? Syaoran shifted on the sofa. Was she going to apologize for not trusting him? Well then, he was willing to be forgiving. She'd apologize, he'd apologize, and he could nudge her along to bed. He was still first and foremost a man, after all. And he wanted her like he'd never wanted anything in his whole life.

"Sure. First, I just wanted to say that Mortim-"

"I just wanted to clear this all up before I go to Paris tomorrow." Sakura interrupted. She didn't want to hear him defend himself. It was useless, and she couldn't harden her heart against him; she loved him. Sometimes she wondered if the pieces of her heart would eventually come back together, and sometimes it seemed that they never would.

Syaoran could feel what he thought must have been his own heart thudding in his ears. Panic dug it's slippery fingers into it, and he tried to convince himself he'd heard wrongly.

"You're leaving?" Me? he wanted to say. You're leaving me?

"Yes. Tomorrow. The wedding reception has been cancelled." she didn't think he really needed to know much more.

"What?" He just couldn't wrap his thoughts around it. Having her pissed at him while still in the city was one thing, only being able to see her if he flew thousands of miles was another thing entirely.

"Well, it's obvious we've ended our... personal relationship, if you could consider what we had an actual relationship, you betting to sleep with me and all." Sakura tried to pass it off lightly, but she wondered if the pain showed on her face.

"Wait a second. I didn't-"

"It doesn't matter. Let's just write it off as one of those things which don't really turn out right. We should just move on, you know, Syaoran?" she managed to smile.

Syaoran stood up abruptly and crossed over to her, suddenly angry, the emotion showing in every angle of his face. "Do you mean to tell me you feel nothing for me at all?".

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two suitcases standing next to the door. His anger escalated, along with his unspoken fears. She was leaving him, it was real.

Sakura forced herself not to look away from his burning eyes, forced herself to remain passive on the surface. How dare he? He had betrayed her, used her for a measley thousand dollars, taken her heart and shattered it, and now he dared to demand that heart all over again?

"What I feel is inconsequential, Syaoran," she said coolly. "You bet Mortimer, whom you knew was my ex-boyfriend, one grand that you could sleep with me, is that correct?"

Syaoran was tired of this non-exsistent bet. It was destroying his life, and he was pretty sure he hadn't even agreed to it! He wanted to rattle that cool exterior of hers so badly. Here he was, frustrated and nearly desperate, and she was all somber and untouched. He moved too fast for her to react.

Lifting her bodily from the armchair, he carried her over his shoulder, caveman style, and deposited her, kicking and screaming, against her kitchen island. Shoving one leg between hers so she couldn't escape, he caught her flailing hands and clamped them under his own on the tabletop. Leaning close, he stared into her furious eyes. His own anger suddenly abated, leaving him filled with only love and lust. For Sakura. He couldn't help but press just that tiny bit harder against her.

Caught in such a provocative embrace, barely able to move, Sakura could do nothing but lash out, feeling tears finally threatening behind her eyes. "Let me go, you sonofabitch! Let me go! You can't manhandle me!". She struggled violently, determinedly holding the tears at bay, blinking madly, promising herself that she'd let them go after he'd gone.

Syaoran studied her face, holding her in place easily with strength that Sakura couldn't help but admire. "No." he said simply. "Listen. I didn't make that bet with Mortimer Davis," he paused, then decided to confess the whole hog. Sakura stared silently back at him with undeniable hurt in her eyes. Syaoran found himself moving closer and closer to her. "about sleeping with you. I told him it was a stupid bet, and he obviously didn't listen. But I did make a bet to take you out those first three times, and I'm sorry, Sakura. I'm sorry."

He ended it on a whisper close to her ear, and all he could hear was her harsh breathing in his. She didn't say anything for a minute. Syaoran put his cheek against hers for several precious seconds, wondering fatalistically if he would lose her forever after this and this would be the last time he'd touch her, and finally lifted his head. Sakura was looking at him out of huge green eyes with such a sadness it squeezed his heart. He lifted one hand from hers over the tabletop and gently stroked the hair that had tumbled all over the place during her struggle.

As he opened his mouth to apologize again, to tell her he loved her, she began to cry. His bruised heart broke in two and sank.

Note: Just wanted to thank Mekana, SapphireStar9, Pink Fire101, ilovestrawberries and syaoran143sakura for reviewing all the time. This is for you guys. Thanks so much for encouraging me to write on!


	17. This Is It

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

This Is It

Syaoran let go of Sakura as if she'd burnt him. He could never deal with crying women. To say the least, they terrified him. Releasing her hands and taking one step back, he fully intended to let her cry it out, then they could talk.

His arms were around her before he'd realised what he was about to do. Shoving the shattered pieces of his heart and pride aside, he cradled her head gently and hugged her length firmly to his own, offering his shirt as a tissue.

"I'm sorry, Sakura. I'm sorry. Please don't cry. Throw things at me, swear at me, just don't..." he trailed off helplessly, cursing himself a thousand different ways for hurting her.

Sakura made a manful attempt to stopper up the tears. "I... I... You don't know... how it feels..." it was one of those hyperventilating crying jags, in which the crier in question could never get past the choking breaths in his or her throat to actually make sense in speech.

Syaoran gave her several long minutes, stroking her from the crown of her head down to the small of her back, making a considerable effort not to go any lower. If it were to be the last time, at least he would know the feel of her body against his, taking comfort from him before she left him for good.

Sakura braced both hands on his shoulders, not pushing away nor pulling him closer. His arms circled her waist like they had so often before. Her abused heart ached from the familarity and yearning. She'd do well to remember that he was a scumbag, a slimeball. He'd lied to her. This was probably still all a scam. She still couldn't bring herself to push him away. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the thought that he had become a part of her; they couldn't be separated.

No, she'd not stand for it. She'd tell him just how he'd done it, just how he'd broken her heart, then she'd make him go. She'd force herself to make him go. She really couldn't stand so much drama the day before the flight. The plane took off at 3 in the morning, and she needed as much sleep as she could get at home, because she never could sleep on planes. She didn't think sobbing to death was going to help much, either. She was glad she could still think remotely of humour when she felt that she would never survive after he walked out her door.

She took a deep breath. "Syaoran. I'm fine now. You can let me go." she waited for him to loosen his hold, to allow her to retreat to somewhere else, anywhere else that was a safe distance from what she wanted but knew was stupid to want.

Syaoran ignored her, and just continued hugging her close, his face buried in her hair. She could feel his soft breathing shifting locks on her head, the sensation one of those that she knew she'd never forget when she thought about him. Her red-rimmed eyes filled again, but just refraining from pouring over. She knew what he was, what he was not. What he was not was worth crying over. She had to tell herself that over and over again, just in case she forgot.

She tried again. "Syaoran. We have to talk. I'm not going to..." she gulped, "cry anymore. Let me go, Syaoran." she finally pushed at him gently.

Syaoran didn't move a muscle. He was truly afraid that once he did he'd have to give up hope forever. Holding on physically seemed to be the only thing he could do to stop fate. To stop her from leaving. Him. "We can talk. Sure. Talk then." He spoke directly into her ear, and Sakura couldn't prevent an almost imperceptible shiver from passing through her body.

He had one arm around her waist, one arm spanning her back and circling her neck, pulling her close with strength like steel. Giving up, knowing it was for the last time, Sakura lifted her hands from his shoulders and threw them around his neck, putting her cheek next to his, content to talk like that, at least for a while.

"You betrayed me, Syaoran, don't you understand? I thought you were different. I didn't want to believe you just wanted to get in my pants, but it turned out to be true. You broke my heart, Syaoran." She clutched his neck tightly, wanting him to understand just how sad he'd made her too. "Do you know what that means? That means that men'll never just love me for me, will they? I must be different in some way. I'm ashamed to say I let myself get shaken by this. I let my own self-confidence falter. It hurt, Syaoran, to tell the truth. You really hurt me."

Syaoran spoke now, but didn't move from the embrace. He didn't think he could bear to look her in the face and know it was the last time. "No, no, no. You're wrong. No, Sakura. I... You're perfect. The others are all stupid not to see that. Yes, you're different, but that just makes you infinitely special. I really didn't mean to hurt you, Sakura. I really didn't want to." he didn't add that he hurt too, for some reason. The ache in his chest that had started last Friday had sort of blossomed into full-blown pain. He wondered if he could live without her. Even now, faced with the bald truth and her rejection coming any minute now, he didn't want to try to.

Clinging on as if her life depended on it, she tried to make him understand. "I don't think it ever occured to you just how it would affect my feelings, did it? There's really no other way to say it. How will I ever know when you're lying or telling the truth about what you think of me ever again? How will I be able to trust you? Do you really think we can build a relationship over what happened?" She blotted her leaking eyes on his shoulder, closing them as she lay her cheek on the hard muscle there. Tip-toeing so she could fit perfectly to him, leaning on him like this, she could almost believe he loved her as much she she loved him. That he was truly repentant, that they could be together till the end, whenever that was.

Regretting what she was about to do with every bone in her body, resisting every instinct, she finally released his neck and took one step back, away from temptation. She tried to look at his face, but dropped her eyes a second later, unable to face his intense eyes boring into her soul. Maybe he could see what she felt even without her saying it.

"Sakura..." His voice was soft. It seemed a moment for whispering. "I... I don't want to hurt you. I..." It was so hard to say. The words that would close the door forever. For her. For her he would do it. "I'll go, Sakura."

He also took a step back, then made himself drop his arms. He wouldn't tell her he loved her. It would burden her sweet little heart, he thought. But maybe she'd understand without him saying it. He remembered the gifts he'd brought.

Going to the dining table, he picked up the paper bag, keeping his back to her. "This is for you. I hope you... just... stay safe, Sakura." He put the paper bag back on the table and walked to the door, feeling Sakura's eyes on his back, prickling his skin, warming him all over.

Opening the door, he took the step across her threshold, out the doorway. He couldn't bear to look at her, but if he had, he would have seem the tears pouring silently down her cheeks again.

Keeping his eyes trained on the staircase leading downstairs to the street, he closed the door behind him, saying, "Goodbye Sakura." The door snicked shut.

Inside, Sakura pressed herself to the door, watching him go down the stairs with a kind of tiredness that cracked her heart even further. Once he turned out of sight, she sank down against the heavy wooden door and put her head carefully on top of her updrawn knees. Funny how the tears stopped. She wondered if it was because the pain was on a different excruciating level. Her eyes stayed dry as her heart bled.

Note: Chapter 17. It's ending soon!


	18. Bound For Paris

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Bound For Paris

Syaoran couldn't really pin-point the exact time, but he thought he must have come to his senses at around midnight. Sakura was leaving him. He couldn't let that happen, becasue he was pretty sure life would be meaningless without her, he'd never be able to eat at Antonello's again, and any other good food, for that matter. He'd never be able to watch Chuck Norris again, he'd never be able to have another picnic, or even go to Central Park without making himself utterly miserable. If even just for his survival, he couldn't let her go.

Funny how he'd lived a perfectly content, normal life before she'd come along, and then after she left he just simply couldn't do without her, couldn't face the long road of his life without her presence at least somewhere down the line.

There had to be a way. He had to find a way.

Sakura couldn't believe all their suitcases had fit in one cab, even if it were a maxicab. Tomoyo seemed to have brought her entire house with her, and the entire product stock of her bridal shop. Four suitcases for a three week trip? Sakura was still reeling.

One last slam of the doors, and the cab was pulling away from the curb. Sakura sat staring out the window at her apartment with Tomoyo's hand clutching hers excitedly, wondering if Syaoran would come to the building and look for her again. Did he really think she didn't love him? Could men really be so blind? Turning her head resolutely to the front, she decided to find a handsome man in Paris, any handsome man, and have a wild fling. Then she'd forget about Syaoran. But even the breeze in the night air seemed to whisper that she had no hope of ever doing so.

Sakura stood at the gate, stalling.

"Erm... Tomoyo, Eriol, why don't you two go in first? I'll catch up with you two later." She clutched her carry-on like a life-line, having checked in her luggages an hour before. It was two in the morning, one more hour before take-off.

"Sakura! We have to board now! They don't close the gates at exactly three so late-comers can stroll in, you know! We have to board now! Come on!" Tomoyo tugged on her T-shirt hard, and dragged Eriol through with her first.

Casting one last look around, desperately looking for a tall, brown-haired man, knowing he wouldn't be there after she'd brushed him off but still wishing he'd come. If he'd come...

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, dragging on for as long as she dared. She couldn't miss the plane. She didn't want to miss her best friend's marriage registration ceremony at least, since the wedding of the century had been cancelled. Sakura imagined Tomoyo's mother would be equal parts horrified and pleased, first because her daughter had deprived her of going through with her so-awesome-it-was-off-the-wall wedding, and second because she herself would be allowed to host the reception for her daughter instead. Mrs. Daidouji simply thrived on social events.

Sakura's thoughts were interrupted my Tomoyo's close to hysterical shrieking. "Get your skinny ass in here, Sakura!" She pointed to the ground at her feet. She was already on the other side of the departure gate.

How could she leave Syaoran? Thinking fast, she tried to find a way to stay, and a way to leave. She couldn't seem to do either properly.

The announcement felt to Sakura to have practically blared out of the speakers, meant specially for her ears, to wake her up to reality. "Last call for flight BJ4895 to Paris. Last call for flight BJ4895...". Avoiding Tomoyo's knowing and sympathetic eyes, Sakura pulled out her passport and stepped over the white line.

She really didn't think he would have come, anyway. All those cliched scenes in the movies about lovers catching each other right before planes left at airports were just that. In the movies. She really hadn't thought he would have come. But she wished he did. Oh, how she wished with all her heart he had.

She walked slowly to the open door of the aeroplane, Tomoyo's comforting hand across her shoulders. She was looking forward to hours and hours of excruciating wakefulness in which she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from thinking about him.

The doorway of the plane loomed before her, coming ever closer. He could still catch her if he came now. Deep inside her heart, she knew that if he had come for her, to take her away, she would have thrown caution to the winds, not thought about his lying or betrayal or his bets, and just gone with him, no questions asked. But he hadn't come.

She stepped through the door, into the plane.

Across the city, oblivious to the heartbreak and pain that they had caused, Mortimer Davis and Meilin Li lurched together over a small table in The Dewberry, right back where they started, it seemed. Roaring drunk, they could do nothing but babble about all that had gone wrong for them over the past three weeks.

"He turned me down again, Morty." Meilin spit out. Her tongue seemed to have grown three sizes larger, and words suddenly were a bigger feat to accomplish than usual. It occured to her in the druken haze that that was the reason why she'd always avoided getting drunk. But Syaoran's spurning of her love the second time seemed to have warranted such a celebration.

" I went to his apartment tonight," she took a second to hiccup, "he told me he wasn't ready for a relationship! Not ready for a relationship, Morty! That's what-" another hiccup, "he said to me! Didn't he see me at all? I was wearing this!" she swept a hand in a broad arc down her body, showing off her tight-as-ever flesh in all it's cat-suited glory.

Mortimer swiped his sleeve across his mouth. "Must've been blind. I'm not, though. You..." he teetered dangerously on his stool, "You look hooot." he ended on a slur. "Wait a second. What were we talking about again?"

Meilin managed to narrow her eyes quite successfully at him without crossing her vision three different ways. "Syaoran and I. We were talking about me. And Syaoran.". She clamped a hand on the table for support, thinking absently that maybe five martinis were three too many.

Mortimer glanced once down her top and looked quickly away, feeling the booze about to come back up the way it went down, stimulated by the many different planes of Meilin's chest. Mortimer wondered vaguely if you could get sea-sickness from looking at someone's breasts. It was almost worth it to throw up.

"Well," he volunteered, "Sakura didn't take me back either. And I even brought her a present! I bought her a dozen doughnuts! A dozen! Those things cost a bomb, you know! Especially the ones with chocolate filling..." he trailed off, and eyed Meilin's slumped form on the table. When had she knocked out? He couldn't seem to remember. Setting his glass carefully on the table, he allowed himself to slip into unconsciousness right beside her.

Sakura sat in her seat, buckled up tight, staring sadly out the window. Glad Tomoyo had bought them first class tickets because of the privacy, she watched the night air swirl into a mist and settle, like magic. He hadn't come afterall, and she had to accept that now. She'd held hope until the very last moment, until the door to the plane had closed. Now, the plane was taxiing, moving onto the runway, getting ready to take off. She clutched the paper bag he'd given her in her hands.

Trying to take her mind of him and the insane urge to cry yet again, she began counting stars. Tomoyo was sitting two rows in front with Eriol, while the seat beside her own was empty. There was nothing to distract her but herself. All too soon, she could feel the purr of the engines speeding up, urging the plane into the air. She couldn't help it, abandoned the count at forty-five and thought of Syaoran. Would she ever see him again? Was he thinking about her now?

Slowly, Sakura's ears popped as the plane lifted off, bound for Paris.

Note: Next chapter's the last. If you guys think I have places to improve, could you possibly specify? Rather than just tell me it's not good enough. It makes me confused. I appreciate it! Thanks.


	19. Forever

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Forever

With trembling fingers, Sakura ripped through the tape holding both ends of the paper bag together. Syaoran had given it to her. She took one more moment to hold on to the thought. The last thing Syaoran had left her with.

Holding her muscles so still they began to ache, she only realised she'd been holding her breath when the pressure in her chest became unbearable. She parted the opening of the bag, and reached in, pulling out two objects.

Almost at once she realised what they were. The porcelain figure of the lion, Simba, sat side by side with a brightly painted hamburger with all the works in her cupped palms. She understood perfectly. "The ultimate hamburger." she whispered to herself. The doll she had been looking for for years suddenly no longer reminded her of her mother, and thoughts of Syaoran washed over her like a flood even as guilt twinged.

He had brought her what both of them had thought she'd wanted, when what her heart truly craved for had been in front of her the whole time. Syaoran. She had let Syaoran go. The small ache in her muscles grew to a pain, and the pain spread and spread, until it seemed she would never be able to get away from it. The thought rang in her head. Syaoran. She had let him go. Syaoran.

Pulling off the soft slippers covering her feet, she curled her legs up in front of her and, resting her forehead on her knees, cried as if her heart had burst. Even as the tears soaked the knees of her jeans, her wailing was still soft, almost to herself. Tomoyo and Eriol slept on in their seats, blissfully unaware of anything out of the ordinary. Only Sakura herself knew just how many times she had cried over Syaoran over the past week.

As if disregarding the frequency, as if it were only the first time, her tears fell all over again. Vaguely, she felt something nudging her shoulder, she turned around, fully intending to brush it away, and came face to face with a pristine, white handkerchief. A masculine voice said huskily, "Don't cry. There's no need to cry."

Faced with the need to be alone to wallow in self-pity and the equally strong instinct to be polite, Sakura sighed and excepted the handerchief from the hand extended between the two seats, fully intending to say 'thank you', when suddenly the timbre of the voice struck a chord within her. It couldn't be... could it?

Gripping the head of her seat with both hands, she slowly unfolded herself and knelt on her seat, head bowed close to her hands, unable to make the final push to let her eyes see for themselves what her heart suspected. Scolding herself for her cowardliness, she grasped the cushion so hard her knuckles turned white. At last, she pulled herself up. Her jaw dropped and her tears immediately dried up in shock.

"Syaoran?" she couldn't believe he was right here, right in front of her, when all she'd been doing all week was wishing for him. Did someone 'up there' really grant wishes?

Syaoran couldn't stop a grin. She was right here, right in front of him. Her eyes had lit up at the sight of him, and he wondered if she knew it. Then the grin dropped from his face. She was crying again. "Sakura... no, don't... don't cry, Sakura.". Later he would have said that she had given absolutely no warning of what she had been about to do.

Seething with anger and tears of happiness, she demanded, "Did you set this up? Syaoran, did you set this up?!" getting louder with each syllable, until she launched herself over her seat and into his lap, clawing like a tigress.

Syaoran fought to get an arm around her nails and teeth. Sakura sure fought dirty. One stomp had gotten uncomfortably close to his groin. She was still crying, trying to get her hands around his neck, he was sure, to strangle him. She seemed to be so angry she couldn't get proper words out.

"You... you... you..." she stuttered, then she found his mouth with her own.

A stewardess that had come running at Sakura's yell turned away with a smile when she saw them wrapped around each other, clinging like vines to a tree. Sakura straddled Syaoran's lap, her bare feet planted on either side of his hips. With his face caught between both her hands, she placed half-frantic kisses on all the skin she could reach.

Syaoran could only hold her close, unable to do anything more but crush her to him as she kissed him, forehead, cheeks, chin, and lips.

"You... you're really here." Sakura finally rested her forehead against his, looking into his eyes. "I know I said I wanted you to let me go, but I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it."

"I couldn't do it. I really can't do without you, Sakura. I love you." There. He'd said it, at last. Would she take him then? Or did she want them to go back to what they started out as? Friends with benefits, maybe? Syaoran didn't think he'd be able to take it.

"Oh Syaoran." Sakura breathed out quickly, and the words fumbled over each other to get out of her mouth first. "I love you too! Oh how I love you! I forgive you. Just don't leave me again. Just-"

With a hand behind her head, Syaoran yanked her down to him and devoured her, just as he'd been dreaming to for the past week. Unbidden, Sakura's tongue swirled with his, closing the circle of desire and love with that magical dance. He slanted his mouth and took the kiss deeper, took her deeper with sensual flicks and strategic pressure. Sakura moaned and sighed. She had come home.

One hand on the back of her head, Syaoran slid the other lower and lower down her back until it came into contact with the tops of her jeans. Dipping his fingers into the waistband, all he did was stroke lightly along the sensitive skin there. It was the most exquisite feeling Sakura had ever known.

She lifted her head, breaking them apart regretfully, but there were things to say. Nevertheless, she kept her lips a mere inch away , never taking her eyes away from his, the sexy chocolate eyes that told her she was lucky they were in public, if not...

"I wasn't going forever, you know. I was going back in three weeks. I'd have come back." She wanted him to know she'd never have been able to stay away. Her arms held on to his shoulders as if she would float away and he was her anchor.

"But you wouldn't have come back to me. I'm here to change that." He smiled, the charming smile that was irresistable to every living, breathing woman alive, Sakura included.

Closing the short distance, Sakura kissed him softly. "Yes, I would have. I probably would have come to find you when I came back. I don't think I can do without you either." she confessed. Syaoran felt the damnedest, warmest feeling flow through him. "I got your presents, too. Thank you." she kissed him again. They grinned like fools at each other.

"Marry me." He'd blurted it out even before he'd realised he was going to say it, then decided to go the whole hog through. "I'll take care of you, I'll make you happy. I love you, Sakura." he had to remind himself to breathe in and out.

Sakura immediately opened her mouth to say something. "I-"

"I want you to share my home. It's too big for me, anyway, and you can fill it up with whatever you want. All I want is you. Marry me. Be my family, Sakura." he knew he was babbling, but somehow he couldn't seem to stop. He'd never proposed before. Was it supposed to be done crammed into an aeroplane seat with the woman in question sitting on your lap kissing you into paradise? Wait a minute, was there really any proper way to do it?

Sakura giggled. What a beautiful sound. "Stop it. Of course I'll marry you. You're mine. Who else'll take you?" Then a sudden brainstorm hit her. "I know! Why don't we do it in Paris? Since we're already well on our way... It's a great idea!" she poked him in the shoulder. "Tell me it's a great idea, Syaoran."

Syaoran pulled her back to his chest, with him, where she clearly belonged. "I don't really care, as long as we get there in the end, as long as we get there together."

Sakura settled onto him, secured by his arms around her, knowing that this time was forever.

THE END

At last, it ends! I hope all of you enjoy this story as much as I did writing it. I'm going to start my next one soon. Tomorrow, actually. Hahaha. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys are my muse, and I'm eternally grateful. I don't think I'll put up an epilogue, because I don't believe in them , for the first thing. If I do put up another chapter, it'll be titled 'Paris', about... well... it's kinda obvious. I don't want to disappoint everyone who asked for one, so I probably will in the end. Hahaha. I just would like to thank MikoKagome1113 for reviewing so much! I already had this chapter ready to upload today, and I'm glad that it filled all your requirements even before I read of them, hahahahahahahahaha. Thanks to all who reviewed!


	20. Paris

Disclaimer: I don't own these people

Paris

Sakura looked at Syaoran across the tiny table that balanced both their plates. Her husband. Never would she have thought it would happen. Syaoran was her husband, and she had the obscenely enormous diamond on her finger to prove it. It had been finalized in one of those small, elegant churches in one of the quiet corners of Paris, and now there they sat, two hours later, across each other at a cafe that seemed to be just one of so many all over the city, drinking gourmet coffee from tiny cups that practically screamed excessive spending of euros. Tomoyo and Eriol had decided to stay at their hotel, doing something Sakura didn't want to think about.

Syaoran held her hand lightly, holding it against his knee. The table was that small, but it was hard for either of them to mind.

Puffy, white clouds floated overhead, chasing each other across the clear blue sky. The day was so beautiful it was almost painful to watch. A faint breeze from the Seine River just metres away wafted over them. Sakura thought she would fall asleep any moment, and sighed contentedly.

A waiter came to collect their plates, a tall, dark, handsome Frenchman who began making eyes at Sakura. Sakura, oblivious, smiled dreamily at him and thanked him for clearing their table. Syaoran felt he had been violently jerked out of the floaty mood and narrowed his eyes at the man just slightly shorter than himself. Very nearly snarling, he sized up the waiter and decided that he could take him down with minimal effort.

The waiter continued to flatter Sakura shamelessly and subtley flex his muscles. Syaoran shoved his chair back and stood up, fists at his sides, just about to throw his opponent into the row of brightly-colored unbrellas lining the front window of a trinket shop next door, when Sakura stood up as well, beaming.

"Well thank you, Bruno, it was nice meeting you.". With that, Sakura linked hands with Syaoran and pulled him away from the cafe, leaving Bruno staring at her slack-jawed in admiration.

"Bruno." Syaoran muttered under his breath. "Just what I'd expect someone like him would be named."

"What's he got to do with his name? He didn't ask for it, I'm sure." Sakura started to reason, then suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as it hit her, gaping at Syaoran. "You- you're jealous?"

If Sakura would have let go of his hand, he would have stuck it in his pocket, right where his other hand was. "No. It would be rediculous to be jealous. Why would I be jealous?" Honestly, if he were anymore jealous, Bruno wouldn't have been allowed to live. So this was what love was.

Sakura grinned at him happily, until he tensed up in mild embarrassment. "I love that you're jealous, Syaoran. In fact, it makes me very happy." Saying so simply, she continued down the street, with Syaoran in tow.

Syaoran's grip on her hand tightened once, then right in the middle of the sidewalk, metres away from the Seine River, caught in a throng of tourists, he yanked her around and into his arms.

She was drowning, she was sure. The rest of the world disappeared until there was only the two of them, unaware of people around them sidling past, shaking their heads. They had seen too much of this to be impressed. It was the magic of Paris, really.

For Sakura and Syaoran, the only magic they knew were of each other, and being in the most romantic city in the world, together. So this was what love was.

Lifting his head, Syaoran sensuously licked her bottom lip. "Of course I was jealous. You're my wife, and there's no way I can stop myself from being jealous if it happens again." His hands settled comfortably on her waist.

"Oh well, "Sakura sighed heavily. "I guess I'll just have to stand you and your temper several times a week, won't I?". Her somber face was belied by her dancing green eyes.

She was laughing at him. He began to smile.

"Oh Syaoran. You never have to worry, because well, there's only you for me." Sakura decided to placate him, then added, "But if you get it into yourself to get angry over me once in a while, well... there's no saying I wouldn't like it." she grinned cheekily and sashayed down the road, away from him. Syaoran looked after her, damning her long, slender legs. Before, he'd appreciated them as much as any other guy in the bar that day, but now, now that she was his to have and to hold, he wished to hell she'd cover them up so only he would know their endless wonders. So this was what love was.

He was acting like a fool, and he knew it. She knew it, come to that. It didn't make him feel any better. He stalked after her swaying skirt. Wait a second. Where'd she gone?

Syaoran whipped his head left and right, trying to drill holes through the crowds with his eyes. Sakura had disappeared. Panic snaked through his blood. This was a foreign country. god knows what they did with nubile young beauties. The worst that his imagination could come up with flitted through his mind. Oh no. He began to run.

"Sakura! Sakura!". He thanked God for the exercise regimen he put himself through every morning. Thank God he was fit. He didn't think he'd have been able to sprint and handle the stress at the same time had it been otherwise. Oh Christ, Sakura.

Turning this way and that, he wound his way through people who suddenly seemed all too ready to stand in his way. Sakura came in front of him so fast he'd barely had time to step on the brakes before he ran straight into her. Overwhelmed with relief, he couldn't speak for a moment. So this was what love was.

Sakura spoke first. "There you are, Syaoran! I've been looking all over for you!". The mild concern in her eyes and smile on her face dropped when she saw the sheer, naked relief on his. "Syaoran. You were worried." It wasn't a question.

Slowly, as if for the first time and he were unsure, he pulled her to him and held her gently. "I wasn't worried. I was terrified." He backed off a bit and looked at her. "Don't ever do that to me again, please. I'm not young anymore, you know. I could have had a heart attack." It sure had felt like it.

"I'm sorry, Syaoran." Sakura went on tip toes and lightly kissed him, but what started as a kiss of comfort quickly escalated into more. Even as his hands relaxed around her, his heart rate increased all over again. Sliding his tongue over hers, Syaoran changed the angle of the kiss, giving them both fresh pleasure.

Syaoran wondered vaguely how he'd survived life before she'd come into it. Then he realised he never wanted to experience it again. He felt the cool metal of her wedding band on his cheek as she raised both hands to cup his face. His wife. Cliche as it was, he felt complete, he felt whole. He felt happy, just being with her.

This was what love was.

Note: And it ends! Officially, the ending was one chapter before, but this is just a snippet that I offer to my faithful readers, for whom I am ever grateful. At last, I can start my next story! I'll begin working on it at once, so stay tuned! Thank you for reading this story, thank you, thank you!


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